


Touch

by AlicienneOfTarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-06-06 19:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlicienneOfTarth/pseuds/AlicienneOfTarth
Summary: After a near death experience, Agent Brienne Tarth is forced by her Boss, Catelyn Stark, in order to resume her work, to see a psychologist.The psychologist is Jaime Lannister.





	1. Blame the eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first attempt with Alternative Universe-Modern Setting, enjoy it and be kind, please!  
> English is not my first language, I apologise in advance!

                                            

 

 _"Well, for a while I've been watching you steady_  
_Ain't gonna move 'til you're good and ready_  
_You show up and then you shy away_  
_But I know pretty soon you'll be walkin' this way_

 _Because sad eyes never lie_  
_Sad eyes never lie." ___

* * *

__

The artificial lights of the night tried to find their path through the dusty glass of the window in the room.

She didn’t want light, though, she searched for darkness.

There was something strangely reassuring in that bumpy couch that was receiving her body and she buried herself on it a little more. She had collected her knees against her chest while a bad quality blanket was around her, scratching her skin slightly like a silent remembering that she was still alive. Her skin was covered in bruises and shivers, but her mind was still empty. She held her head lowered, her chin almost touching the collar of her dress, a way to avoid any unwelcome gaze.

“What happened to you, Brienne?” Her voice was gentle, even if it sounded distant somehow, or maybe it was just her mind miles away. She wanted to reply, but she didn’t have the strength.

“Drink some coffee.” That voice tried again, but she didn’t want caffeine, she wanted a dreamless sleep. “I’m going to take some clean clothes for you, ok?”

The woman left the room, Catelyn Stark was her name, Supervising Agent of the King’s Landing Police department; Catelyn was a beautiful woman, a special mentor that had raised her since her first steps in the police world. Brienne had immediately realized that her mentor’s beauty wasn’t just external; sometimes she could sense the other’s inner beauty in the air, like a magical aura irradiating fairness.

She could hear some voices whispering outside the room; they were clearly talking about her, but the thought didn’t bother her. The only things shaking her apathy away were the shame and a sense of defeating.

She pulled the blanket more tightly against her body and she closed her eyes.

Catelyn returned with a fresh pair of slack and t-shirt and approached her delicately on the couch.

“Stop blaming yourself for this, the mission was a success, after all.” She said gently.

“I shouldn’t have killed him, you know it.. we needed him alive.” Brienne said, not able to meet her eyes and the disappointment they could hide.

“Brienne, he tried to strangle you! You honestly couldn’t do anything else.”

“He was strangling me because I’ve been stupid enough to blow my cover, even though, in my defense, I knew I would never been able to be credible in this.” She said, pointing at her short dress.

“Listen, the bastard has died, you are alive, this is what matter right now, ok?” Catelyn said, squeezing her shoulder. Brienne flinched immediately at the contact, hating herself for the reaction.

“I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t like to..”

“That’s ok.” Brienne interrupted her, trying to be gentle.

“Listen, Brienne, there’s one more thing..” She tried tentatively.

“What?” She asked, her blue eyes staring at her.

“The protocol is rigid about this kind of things.” When she realized Brienne wasn’t going to interrupt her again, she kept talking. “You’ve just gone through a near death experience.. it’s important for us to know that you’re positively ready to resume your work.”

“Wh- what are you talking about?” Brienne asked.

“You need to see a psychologist, at least until he will declare you capable to work.”

“What? Are you serious? No way.”

“Brienne, it’s not my choice, you know it. If you won’t do it, you will be on suspension starting from tomorrow, I am so sorry.”

“But I’m ok, I’m totally fine.” She said angrily trying to restrain a contradictory tear.

“Brienne, we both know that this will help you anyway, I know about your past, I know who you are and frankly, I’ve always lived with the fear that one day you would have reached your breaking point, sooner or later. At least we could try to prevent this.”

Brienne sighed, burying her head in the cushion. “Please, don’t do this to me.” She begged, her voice muffled by the couch.

“I know it’s hard for you, dear.. but it’s the right thing to do, besides it’s mandatory.”

“I can’t afford a psychologist.” She blurted out.

“You perfectly know that the department would take care of that.”

“Fine, I don’t know any psychologist, then.” She tried again.

“We already have one affiliated with the department, Brienne.”

“Doctor Varys?”

“Varys helps us solving the cases with the killers’ profiles, this one, though, is assigned to the personnel.”

“Who is it?”

“Doctor Lannister, Jaime Lannister.”

“That Lannister? Are you serious?”She asked incredulous.

“Despite everything, he’s the best.” Catelyn said.

“How could he be the best when he destroyed a man’s life and family with a fucking psychological expertise?”

“Listen, there’s no choice, ok? Now go home, try to rest and tomorrow at six PM you’ll have your first appointment with Doctor Lannister, I don’t want to hear another word.”

 

* * *

Jaime Lannister loosened his tie around the neck, enjoying the relief of another ended day of job. He loved his work, he knew he was great at it, but lately there was a sense of dissatisfaction that was devouring him inside; he had always found comfort in taking care of other people, listening to their problems and their traumas with the illusion and the possibility of hiding his own away in turn, because when you don’t talk about something, you can easily pretend that nothing exists.

It was easier to be the one who always listened and never talked; but then, when he came back in the loneliness of his loft, he realized that, deep down, he didn’t care about anyone in particular. He used his patients to abolish his demons, without really taking something meaningful in exchange. Not a smile, not a word, not a special thanks or an interested gaze.

Anything.

Then, what was the point in all of this? He sometimes asked himself.

He spent days full of words and promises and then he came back home to his totally empty nights.

He was collecting his files in his 24-hour case when a knock interrupted his task.

“Come in.”

“Lannister.”

“Catelyn Stark, what a pleasure.” He said, smirking.

“Likewise.” She said, without hiding the sarcasm.

“Please, sit down.” He said, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. “Why the honorable Catelyn Stark is here in my office?”

“You have a new patient, one of my agents.” She said, passing a folder of documents to him.

“Interesting, what happened to the guy?” He asked, opening the folder.

“Actually, she’s a woman.”

“Fuck! 6.3? Is that a woman? Really?”

“Agent Brienne Tarth, one of my best agents, actually. She has been attached tonight during an under cover mission. She blew her cover..she was almost strangled to death.”

“I see.” He said, closing the folder.

“What? Would you please take a look on that?” Catelyn asked exasperated.

“What’s the point in finding out this woman’s demons if you give me a folder containing her biography? I need to know those things by myself.”

“Never mind, do whatever you need to do, just.. try to help her.”

“Are you close?”

“I like her, be gentle with her.. she’s lonely, so lonely.”

He sighed, “you know, loneliness is not always a bad thing.”

“Be careful, anyway.”

“Yes, Chief.” He said with a military gesture.

 

* * *

Brienne didn’t know why she found herself in her condo with the laptop open in front of her, running images and articles about Jaime Lannister. The man was a kind of celebrity apparently, the classic guest all the middle-aged presenters wanted desperately in their talk shows. He was charming, smart, sharp and the fact he was very easy on the eyes was a strong encouragement.

She tried to listen to some of his interviews, scowling at the terrific howls coming from the audience every time he was introduced and trying to hide the fact that he was really handsome, a thing that seemed to irritate her even more, if it was possible.

Brienne had never reached for help in her life, simply because she had always tried to hide the fact that she had needed it in the first place; she lived alone, enjoying her freedom immensely. She had never experimented the concept of sharing time, space and priorities with someone else, even if the thought gave her a thrill of curiosity that she couldn’t allow her mind to have.

Someone could have defined her life as monotonous; she defined it as safe.

She met the same people everyday, she ran across the same paths, she indulged in the same vices. She didn’t risk, maybe because her job was a challenge everyday and she reserved all the bravery she could collect to its purpose only.

That’s way a single new encounter could unbalance her everyday like lead on a scales.

The next day, in front of his office’s door, she found herself slightly nervous, pulling up the edge of her roll-neck, in a gesture of protection. She wasn’t the type to be intimidated by a man, but maybe her, still fresh, near death experience was really messing up with her mind, somehow.

She knocked at the door and cursed under her breath.

“Come in.”

She didn’t enter in the room, she more likely invaded his office with the force of a thunderstorm without even realizing it, stopping at few steps in front of his desk.

“Miss Tarth?” He said, eyeing her from head to toes. “Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.

She totally ignored it and sat on the chair in front of him.

“Just to be clear, I don’t know why I’m here, I find it totally useless and wrong, so I was thinking to save us time.” She said in a breath, “Just pretend that I’m your patient, write what the hell you want on that notebook, but don’t expect me to actually be part of your sessions.”

He stared at her, smiling amused.

“What?” She asked, impatiently.

She could sense he was enjoying her discomfort. “Oh, it’s going to be so fun.”

“Ok, I think you’ve got it wrong, Doctor. I won’t do this.” She said, pointing between them.

“You definitely will, Miss Tarth.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m very professional in what I do and believe me, I’d really like to spend my time differently, not wasting it trying to put some decency and good behavior in your thick skull for a start, but I have no choice, apparently. They call it work ethic.”

“I call it bullshit.”

“Language, wench.”

Brienne wasn’t sure to have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry? How have you just called me?”

“Wench, Miss Tarth. You look like that tall wench in that fantasy TV show, you know, the one with the dragons.”

She perfectly knew that show, actually she knew almost every line of it by heart, but she didn’t want to grant him the satisfaction. “Oh, I can see you are very professional, indeed.”

“You’re funny, I give you that.” He said, scribbling something in his notebook.

“What are you doing?” She asked, annoyed.

“I’m taking notes.”

“About what, exactly?”

“You refused to shake my hand, your breathing is accelerated, you’re blushing more than normal and there’s sweat following your hairline. You’re clearly uncomfortable right now and I wonder why.”

The exasperation was coming strong. “Well, I don’t want to be here, for a start.”

He felt strangely annoyed at her words. “You don’t seem the type who’s used to get what she wants, am I wrong?”

She blushed angrily. “They told me you were an asshole, I didn’t think you could reach these levels, though.”

He smirked, looking at her in the eyes, indulging himself in their bewitching pureness for the first time. “Let me help you.”

“Why do you even care?” She said, not interrupting his gaze.

“I like a good challenge and you seem one, besides, you seem lonely, too.”

“Loneliness is underestimated.” She said, almost whispering and her words hit him more than he wanted to admit. She was the one to break the eye contact now, busying herself with the items adorning his desk. She found a framed picture, three kids smiling at the photo camera, the youngest one pulling one of the baby girl’s braid. She smiled imperceptibly, a nostalgic smile, but then realized of having be caught.

“Let’s make a deal Miss Tarth.” He said. “We will have our first official appointment next week, trying to forget this unfortunate first encounter, and we’ll see how it goes. At the end of it, you will be free to never come back, that’s ok for you?”

She had to admit it was a good compromise. “Do I have another choice?”

“No.”

“Deal.” She said, getting up and ready to leave the room, when she heard his voice interrupting her.

“Blame the eyes!” He said with more emphasis than it was really necessary; when she turned, looking at him confused, he explained. “Those eyes give you away, you can’t lie, not with me, anyway, besides you’re a terrible liar. You can pretend you’re just fine, that you’re strong enough, enjoying your loneliness made of romantic novels and frozen pizzas, but the truth is, you just need help, you just need a contact, of any kind. You need to scream your frustration fomented by that sense of injustice you feel steadily. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Then why your voice is trembling?”

She turned immediately, looking at the door to escape his gaze again. “Goodbye, Doctor Lannister.”

“See you next week, Miss Tarth.”

Loneliness is underestimated, like those piercing blue eyes that had been staring back at him.

Perhaps Jaime Lannister had finally found something able to follow him at home this time, and, for a moment, he had felt less lonely.


	2. Trust fall

                                                              

 

After the first session with Doctor Lannister, Brienne decided to make a stop in one of her favorite places in the world, the shooting range. She knew it wasn’t a very original choice, especially for a cop like her, but every time she had felt the need to soothe her frustration, her feet had always carried her there to the point that everyone knew her.

“Clegane.” She greeted him, after entering.

“Tarth.” He said, smiling. “Footboard 3 is empty.”

“Thanks.” She said, reaching her place.

Sandor Clegane was the owner of the shooting range “The Hound”. Brienne liked him because he was a man of few words and she had never found herself forced to exchange more than ten coherent sentences in his presence, thing that she enjoyed immensely. She wore the safety glasses and the hearing protection and she started shooting without rest. She immediately noticed though, that her aim was less precise than usual; the confirmation arrived when her mind started to drift toward fresh sharp words and insolent green eyes.

_You need to scream your frustration fomented by_ _that sense of injustice you feel steadily._

A rush of adrenaline hit her and she emptied the content of her gun in an instant, bullet after bullet.

“Bad day?” Sandor asked her, pointing at the shooting target.

She looked at it, noticing her negative result. “Just distracted.” She replied, freeing herself from the protections.

“Pleasant distraction, I hope?”

“Not really.” She said, even if, honestly, his new Doctor’s eyes had been more than pleasant.

She greeted him and then she went home, trying to find comfort there.

She was too tired and upset to eat something healthy and decent, so she emptied the content of a tuna can in a bowl and mixing it with mayonnaise and crackers. She fed her cat, Springsteen, wondering, for the millionth time, if it was more a lonely or a fat cat. They were similar, but at least Brienne was more fit. She was about to enjoy her precarious meal when she heard her phone buzzing.

**Margaery**

_Remember about tomorrow night._

**Brienne**

_Tell me again why should I come considering that I’m on a suspension now._

**Margaery**

_Because you’re the star of the event._

_Besides, you’re my friend and I want you here._

_How’s Doctor L.?_

**Brienne**

_Asshole._

**Margaery**

_Sexy asshole?_

**Brienne**

J _ust asshole._

**Margaery**

_Don’t believe you._

_See you tomorrow at 5, I’ve found you a beautiful dress._

**Brienne**

_Jeans will be fine._

**Margaery**

_In your dreams_.

Margaery Tyrell was the head of the King’s Landing department Media relations unit. Her job included liaising with media and leading outreach programs, among other public-facing efforts. She was great at her job, helped also by her incredible look and her brilliant smartness. She didn’t know how, but they became friends almost immediately. Margaery was everything Brienne wasn’t: pretty, confident, manipulator and seductive; with her though, she had always been genuinely kind and Brienne valued kindness immensely. The event Margaery was referring to was a big celebration night in honor of King’s Landing police unit and its last success in which Brienne had taken a great part. Her friend knew how to play her cards, that’s why she had invited a great part of the press and some authority to give importance to the event.

Brienne, the heroine, was already terrified.

Besides, she didn’t feel like celebrating, also because in her mind, it hadn’t been a success, at least not completely. She touched her neck under the fabric of her roll-neck and she sighed.

 

**Margaery**

_I forgot, the creep from Narcotics will be there too._

Brienne groaned, a blush invading her face. The creep from narcotics was Tormund, a giant ginger man who had developed a big crush on her and kept insisting on asking her out since months. He had tried everything reaching the point of proposing a restaurant in which you could ask the name of the cow that was providing your steak.

She had found it deeply disturbing, he had seemed deeply proud.

She reached her bed taking a silly romance she had started two days before. She tried to read it but she gave up in the end because her mind was still miles away. She was trying to ignore the fact that meeting him had upset her more than it should have. She didn’t know if blaming his words, his cold reading or his piercing stare that had seemed to dig an unbridgeable hole inside her. What she knew was that she was turning in her bed since thirty minutes, trying to find a sleep that never came.

_you just need a contact, of any kind._

She removed the pillow under her head and hugged it, crushing it to her chest.

Every word had been true, every presumed conjecture, and she was surprised now to realize that the anger provoked by the shame of being exposed had never arrived. She was more intrigued, grateful too; because for once in her life, someone had tried to go beyond. Beyond her look, her external strength, her determination that, she perfectly knew, it could be at least intimidating. She knew that it was his job, after all, she wasn’t delusional about that aspect, but maybe he deserved a chance, just one, as she deserved to be heard. It was right that sense of hope she felt that annoyed her even more. She was annoyed that a stranger, after twenty minutes spent together, could read her like an open book effortlessly, with the presumption of knowing to be right and without the worrisome of breaking her shield.

Her train of thoughts was interrupted by the vibration of her phone on the bedside table. She looked surprised at the not familiar number and eventually replied.

“Hello.” She said, rough voice.

“Miss Tarth?”

She sat down on the bed, not understanding why she felt the urge to find a more composed position. “Doctor Lannister?”

“That’s me, look, I call because I forgot to leave you my number.”

“Your number?” She asked him tentatively, hating the trembling of her voice.

“Yes, I give my service number to all my patients, in case there’s an emergency and they need me.”

“And do they use it?” She asked incredulous.

“No.”

“You’ve called me at midnight to give me a number that no one uses?”

“Well, it’s not midnight yet and I thought you were awake, seem a nocturnal type.”

She shrugged in response, sighing and giving him the confirmation to have guessed another thing about her.

“Well, thanks then. Even if I don’t think I will ever use it.”

“Ouch, that hurts wench.. you don’t need to be nasty just because you can’t sleep, you know?”

“Quite that, besides, who says I can’t?”

“Just making an educate guess.” When she didn’t rebut, he talked again. “Why can’t you sleep?”

She hated herself and her hesitation, because she could feel herself falling in his trap immediately. “I don’t know.”

“Our encounter has upset you that much?” He asked her and she was surprised when she didn’t find the mockery in his tone; at that point her answers were totally monosyllabic.

“Maybe.”

“It’s normal, don’t worry.. do you know the most difficult part regarding therapy?”

_Just cut_ _him_ _off_ , but her voice seemed to contradict her. “No.” She replied, trying to hide any hint of interest in her voice, while the only thing that she wanted was to keep talking; not in general, but with him.

“To start, and since you have been forced into it, it will be even more difficult.”

“I know.” And she realized she was gripping her phone impossibly tight.

“You just need to trust me.”

Trust. The magic word, the only thing that Brienne had secretly chased for all her life; the precious sensation of allow herself to lower her barriers for once, to be fragile, weak without caring about it.

A trust fall in the arms of a stranger. “How can I trust you if I don’t know you?”

“Even better. Try to think about it, I don’t know you, I have no interest in hurting or betraying you..no feelings involved, the risk is less.”

She didn’t reply, silently considering his words.

“Are you still there or have you fallen asleep?”

“Your voice is soothing.” She whispered in the phone, before even thinking, hating herself a moment later. After some disorientating seconds of silence, he eventually spoke. “I can call you every night if it helps.”

She replied laughing this time and he joined her, even if his laughter was less hysterical than hers. “I think you have better things to do.”

“What makes you think that?”

“An educate guess.” She replied, mimicking his words and hoping it hadn’t sound like a poor attempt of flirting, thing that she couldn’t allow herself to do, besides, she despised him.

“I’ll let you sleep now, Miss Tarth.. see you next week.”

She was disappointed and she wondered why. “Next week, bye.”

She put her phone on the bedside table, the took it again and texted Margaery.

_Less_ _asshole_.

Then she slept.

When Margaery arrived next day at five, Brienne realized she had spent the whole afternoon sprawled on the couch. The confirmation arrived when her friend, looking at her, pointed at her cheek mumbling something that sounded like “the pillow’s couch has eaten your face.”

Brienne scratched her skin roughly in response.

“Can I hug you just for five seconds?” Margaery asked her.

She suspected that Margaery perfectly knew about her problem of allowing other people to touch her; she had never dig about the reasons of her friend’s discomfort though, thing for which Brienne was eternally grateful.

“Why?” Brienne asked suspiciously.

“You almost got killed last night.”

Brienne sighed, contemplating her motivation. “Three seconds.” She replied, opening her arms toward her. Margaery smiled and briefly hugged her friend.

“Get naked, hit the shower.” She added then in an authoritarian voice.

If she hadn’t know her friend better she would have tried at least to rebut, but she followed her instructions, smiling slightly. When she finished, she found a beautiful navy blue dress on the bed and touched it with something close to reverence. “I can’t wear this.” She whispered to herself. Then, she tried it in a contradictory gesture, observing her reflection in the mirror. It was a simple dress that embraced her fit body perfectly, following its unconventional curves. The v neckline was a little too deep, almost touching the pit of her stomach but she was basically flat like the day she was born, so she didn’t run the risk to seem vulgar. Her fingers found the residual signs of the aggression on her neck and she felt once more defeated.

“You’re beautiful.”

She looked at her friend through the mirror and she smiled dejected. “What about these?” She asked, pointing at the scratches. Margaery looked at her, raising a make up brush triumphantly.

“I have allies.” She almost screamed and Brienne gave up, leaving her do her magic.

They arrived an hour later to the party after a fight regarding Brienne’s hair. Margaery wanted them collected, Brienne, the winner of the debate, wanted them loose, mostly because she needed another weapon to hide her wounds on the neck. Her friend told her something about “hiding herself behind her hair”, like it had always been a mask to shelter herself and Brienne replied that she was tired of that psychological crap.

Catelyn greeted them in a beautiful green jumpsuit and asked Brienne about her encounter with Jaime Lannister. “Next question.” Was her eloquent reply.

Brienne wasn’t a fan of social events, that was the reason why she was trying to spend the night in the beloved shadow, where she had always felt truly belonged, enjoying the company of her Vodka Tonic immensely. She spotted Tormund in the opposite corner of the great hall and he raised a crab claw in the air, in a strange way of greeting her, until, sure to have her attention, he chewed it vigorously, staring at her with deep concentration. She smiled awkwardly in response, but he seemed to take it as an incentive and started to approach her.

“You look like all the Seven combined.” He said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and she held back the urge to grimace. “Listen, beauty, about that bloody dinner..”

“Miss Tarth, the press needs to interview you.” A voice called behind her and she had never been more grateful in her whole life. She waved at Tormund that was mumbling something like “call me, sunshine” and then she found herself engulfed by at least ten journalists. The first questions were easy and Brienne started to relax, but then the conversation took a turn that she wasn’t expecting.

“Agent Tarth, were you the only woman available for the mission?” A pretty journalist asked her, beating her eyelashes mischievously.

“I’m the only woman in my department, so yes.”

“Wouldn’t have been better chose one from another unit?”

Brienne started to understand the meaning behind her questions and felt the urge to smash the microphone against her pretty face. She inhaled to calm herself and then replied. “Why?”

“Well, we know the mission wasn’t a complete success because you blew you cover at some point, maybe, no offense, but one with a different sex appeal and look would have been more credible..”

“I have been trained for weeks and we couldn’t wait anymore.” She snapped back, trying to hide the humiliation clear in her voice.

“Yes, but..”

While the journalist kept talking, her vision became blank. She was trying to ignore every single word coming from that woman’s mouth. Words are wind, she kept telling herself. They cannot hurt you. Let them wash over you; This silent mantra was echoing in her mind, when she felt the lightest of the touches on the small of her back. She turned a little startled and a pair of emeralds eyes pierced hers. She should have felt her breath coming short, her hands starting to tremble, but the panic never arrived, thing that made her lean imperceptibly into him in the most natural gesture.

“Doctor Lannister, I can’t believe it, is that you?” The journalist almost screamed.

He looked at Brienne a little more, like he was assuring himself that she was fine and then, interrupting their stare, he started to talk. He spoke about his new collaboration with the department, how he felt proud to work with the best agents in the country, but especially with women like Catelyn Stark and Agent Brienne Tarth and like no one would have done a better job in the under cover mission. At that point, though, Brienne had stopped listening. She left his side like she had been suddenly burnt by an invisible blaze and reached the terrace, leaving him behind. She marched outside, stopping at the railing, both hands grabbing it impossibly tight. That sense of panic that should have come from his touch, from a stranger’s touch, arrived just now, blurring her vision for a moment. She realized, incredulous, that she had felt safe the moment she had sensed his fingers pressed on her back, a thought that made her feel even more weak; and feeling weak, for Brienne, led to anger.

She felt his steps approaching her and turned to meet him, determination painted in her face.

“Are you ok?” Jaime asked her, genuinely worried.

“Stop doing that.” She snapped at him, anger in her eyes.

“Doing what?” He was genuinely confused.

She lowered her gaze, leaving his eyes, not bearing their intensity. “Stop trying to help me.”

He laughed bitterly, “I was protecting you, you were totally lost back there, you were basically screaming for help.”

“I don’t need your help.” She was angry now. “I don’t need to be protected, especially from you.”

He smiled. “You do.”

She approached him, until a few steps separated them. “Let’s make this clear, Doctor, I’m not a poor woman you need to protect just to feel better with yourself, like if was your pathetic attempt to redeem yourself and clear your conscience...if you have one.” She said, breathing heavily. He considered her words, never leaving her eyes, then he laughed this time.

He tilted his head, amused. “You know, it’s wonderful to watch you wrestle with your dilemmas.” He took a step toward her and then another, until she retreated, her lower back flat against the railing. “Your voice says a thing, your eyes show exactly the opposite.. and guess which part is lying, Miss Tarth?”

Her words came out trembling. “You are the most arrogant, self-centered and annoying..” She stopped when she saw his eyes lowering on her neck and scowling. His hand seemed to move on his own accord and she could almost sense his fingertips brushing her skin, even if he hasn’t touched her yet.

“Don’t.” She whispered, putting her own fingers around the neck to hide the scratches.

“Jaime, are you there?” A female voice interrupted the spell. She saw him retreating and she hated the fact that she missed his proximity immediately.

“Yes, honey, just chatting with a...friend. Miss Tarth, this is..” Brienne noticed his struggle and tried not to snort.

“Pia.” The woman replied annoyed.

“Of course, Pia, I had really spaced out for a moment. Pia, this is Brienne.” Jaime said, her name coming out easy from his mouth.

“God, you’re so tall.” The brunette said. Brienne looked at her, she was a pretty woman, even with two chipped teeth adorning her smile.

“Such a hawk eye Pia, I’m impressed.” Brienne replied and she was pretty sure Jaime hid a smile. “Nice to meet you.. well I was about to leave so.. enjoy the rest of the evening.”

When she passed them, putting some space behind her, she heard his voice calling her again.

“Miss Tarth.” She turned toward him, not bothering to hide her evident annoyance. He paused, staring at her from head to feet.

“You look lovely tonight.”

She intercepted his gaze, trying to discern that hint of mockery she was used to receive from men, but didn’t find any. She frowned confused and went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I hope you liked this chapter, thank you for your comments and kudos, keep going please, I need your feedback! I apologise for any mistake.


	3. Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A phone call and a first session

                                                                

 

Her phone was ringing again and she ignored it for the second time, while his name still lingered in her mind; two missed call, Jaime Lannister. The third time she yielded, wondering if her surrender hadn’t been totally unwelcome to her.

“Not just stubborn, but proud too.. what a complex wench.” His sharp voice almost took her breath away.

She regained control and replied, “what do you want?”

“Hi to you, Miss manners, I’ve called you to let you apologize to me.”

She laughed amused, “it doesn’t work like this, you know? Besides, you could spend your nights better.”

“Interesting to know that you seem very concerned about how I spend my nights.”

“I do if you bother mine.” She snapped back, silently applauding herself for her readiness.

“Apologize!”

“No.”

“You’ll sleep better, after it.”

“I’ll sleep better if you’ll actually let me sleep.”

“Wanna make a bet? If you hang up right now, you’ll keep thinking about this night, about that woman’s words that you shouldn’t have left get under your skin so easily.. but mostly..about how much you have secretly loved the fact that I’ve come to rescue you.”

“I’ve hated it.” She replied, almost trying to convince even herself.

“You’ve loved it. Your eyes thanked me in your place, anyway.”

“My eyes do what I want them to do.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly my point.”

She sighed in the phone, taking some time. “I think I’m losing my self.” She whispered then, surprising them both. “I feel like suddenly every single thing is hitting me harder than before.”

“No.” He said, pausing. “You’re just beginning to find yourself again.” He added and she was lulled by his voice again.

“I’m scared, but I don’t know why.”

“It’s good to be scared, at least you’re feeling something. Withdrawal and denial.. that’s what keeps us awake at night, Brienne.”

“You sound like you’re telling it to yourself too.” She said and she could sense her words hit him in turn, his silence like a poignant evidence.

“Maybe.” He said then, and she was surprised to realize how a simple two syllable admission could make her feel so close to him. She wondered again how this man could inspire so many mixed feelings inside her, from cold rage to burning empathy.

“I’ve overreacted tonight, I’m sorry.” She said then.

“Sweet dreams, wench.” He replied.

She spent that night the same way she had spent the previous ones, brooding. For a woman like Brienne, grown up with the certainty to rely on herself alone and without ever admitting the thought, born by weakness, of allowing to another person to share her burden and her fragility, the fact that a man, more a stranger than anything else, had overstepped her self imposed barrier, just with the genuine purpose of trying to help her was inconceivable; She had always been able to keep her defenses solid, also because no one had ever expressed the interest of wanting to cross that path, in an attempt to go beyond her distrust and see what was really hidden behind; The worst thing was that Jaime was right, she had liked it, immensely. She had loved the way he had touched her imperceptibly, like he already knew that she had been carved with crystal; like he had sheltered her from words that her mind, even if used to accept them, had been too tired to fight back. That was the reason she had to break the spell, to scream at his presumption and at his perspicacity that had made him able to unmask her once again. She didn’t know if it was more a matter of fear or pride, but she suspected, in the intimacy of her mind, that was the first reason; she couldn’t ignore though, that feeling of anticipation that stayed with her every day until their second meeting.

That’s why, the second time, when she found herself in front of the door of his studio, her knock was lighter, hesitant somehow, altered by the mixed emotions she was feeling. When he didn’t reply to her first attempt, she tried a second time, then a third; at that point, her initial calm turned into impatience and she started to beat at the door like a possessed woman, until she heard an annoying giggle behind her back. She turned around, meeting his mischievous eyes.

“One of the funniest thing I’ve attended in the last days.” He said, smugly.

“Sometimes I wonder how old are you.” She replied back. He approached her at that point, amused and leaning casually against the door, arms folded, facing her. “Why, are you afraid that I’m too old for you?”

She sighed exasperated in response, “would you please open the bloody door?”

“A truce.” He said instead, surprising her.

“What?” She asked. He made his eyes dance on her face, analyzing her struggle. “Let’s make a truce, no fights, no insults and only civil behavior once stepped inside this room.”

“You need trust to have a truce.” She immediately replied.

“You will trust me at some point, I promise you.” He said, not moving from the door. “It’s a yes?”

She contemplated his words and then nodded slightly.

“Ok, now before we go in, just spit out that witty thing that you’re dying to tell me since the moment you’ve seen me, I can see it on the tip of your tongue, last chance.”

She bit her lower lip, like she had been caught. “As a matter of fact..” She started and he smirked, amused. “You know, you could at least try to remember your girlfriends’ name when you introduce them.”

“Oh, interesting.” He said, eyes lighting up. “Actually, I might agree with you, if she was my girlfriend.”

“She isn’t?” She couldn’t hold back her question, come out too quickly from her mouth.

“She isn’t.. you seem, how can I say it? Oh yes..relieved, Miss Tarth.” He said, teasing her.

She ignored him. “Well, then you should at least try to remember your..”

“Date.” He helped her.

“Thank you. Your date’s name, sometimes.” She finished proudly.

“Yes, but, you know, I’m better with my patients’ names, wench.”

“My name is Brienne.”

“Truce.” He said, cutting her and opening the door. Once inside, she realized things would have been different from that moment and she didn’t know if she was more grateful or scared. She immediately discerned though, a new shade crossing his face, seriousness but also a hint of nervousness. Maybe he was scared too.  
“Miss Tarth, take a seat.” He said, gesturing toward the couch.

“The couch?” She asked, insecure.

“Well, you need to be relaxed, the couch is comfortable enough, I’ve assumed asking you to lay down on it would have been a little too much for you, but you can contradict me as you like if I’m wrong.”

“Sitting is fine.” She said, ignoring the fact that just thinking about laying down on the couch in front of him made her blush like a schoolgirl.

“Figured that much.” He said smirking, taking the chair in front of her. Then there was that gaze again, the one that should have made her feel sheepish, not hopeful. “Why are you wearing that?” Jaime asked, pointing at her rollneck.  
She touched her neck automatically, surprised by his question.“It’s comfortable.”

“Bullshit. I’ve told you, you can’t lie with me.” He said, smiling slightly. “Besides, it’s May, hardly the time for turtlenecks.”

“I don’t like what it’s under it.” She said, surprising herself.

“Can I see it?” He asked.

“You’ve already seen it.” She whispered more to herself; she hesitated for some seconds but then sighed, lowering the fabric covering her neck. He frowned, following the bruises that painted her porcelain skin. “Does it hurt?” He asked, not able to look away.

“Sometimes.” She said, now covering the exposed skin. “I wore make up to the party, that’s why it was less visible.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Undercover mission, I had to frame a criminal, a drug dealer with a weakness for high-class hookers. I’ve trained myself for days, without realizing that the real problem was my lack of any capacity of seduction. He uncovered me the moment he asked me to get on my knees and blow him and I’ve wavered. At that point I was too tipsy by the wine I had to drunk during all the night to fight him immediately.”

“How did it end up?” He asked and she was surprised by how different he seemed from their previous encounters.

“Well, the Beretta in my lovely pochette, that’s how they call it, saved my ass. I’ve killed him while he was busy strangling me.” She said mechanically.  
He hissed, standing up, slightly turned, interrupting their stare; she wondered why. “How do you feel about it?”

“I’m not upset, I mean, I’ve killed before, it’s not the first time.. it’s more about the sense of failure, I shouldn’t have killed the man.”

“Nah, It’s not that.” He said, sighing. “Stop doing that.” Now he sounded almost annoyed.

“Doing what?” She asked, mimicking his annoyance.

“Stop keep things from me, I figure them out, eventually.” He said, now kneeling in front of her.  
She sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. “Brienne?” When she didn’t reply, he tried again. “What have you felt when he was about to kill you?”

“Emptiness.” She said in a whisper.

“Why?” He asked, but his voice had never been more delicate.

“Because I had noone to leave behind.” She answered, tearing her eyes away from him, the confession she had just made, too heavy to stand.

“Here we go, thank you.” He said, resting his hand on the pillow next to her on the couch.

“Fuck, I hate this.” She said, punching the same pillow, almost touching him.

“You’ll get used to this.” He said kindly. “Do you feel alone?”

“No.”

He moved his hand, grabbing her wrist and finding her pulse point under his fingers. “Liar.” He said while she retracted immediately.

“Never do that again.” She said, covering her hands with the edge of the sleeves.

“Sorry.” He said pretending to be surprised and searching her eyes, but she looked away.

“What was it, anyway?” She asked, irritated.

“Accelerated pulse, plus, you’ve touched your nose, you were clearly lying.”

“What are you? A psychic?”

“I just like to pay attention.” He said, enjoying her discomfort.

“Well, I don’t like it.” She snapped back. “It’s irritating.”

“Now you wound me.” He said, gaining a strange sound in response. He seemed to sense that she was closing up again, so he tried another approach. “Let’s play a game.” He said, handing her his notebook form his pocket. She looked at it confused, but then took it.

“A game?”

“Well, not really a game.” He said, resuming his position on the chair. “You will make a list of things you like about you.”

“Really? How old are you again, five?” She said.

“We need to work on your self esteem, wench.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok, Miss wench.”

She rolled her eyes. “I need a pen, Doctor.”

“You need to write both physical and inner qualities.” He said, handing her the pen.

“I can’t believe I am doing this.”

“Take your time.” He said, taking a bottle of water from the side table and giving it to her.

“Thank you.” She said, while she was the one who brushed his fingers in the process.

He briefly looked at her.

“Self esteem is just a component for our psychological well-being, but it works like a particular lens that magnifies or dwindles our personal resources.” He explained. “So it could seem a silly game, but sometimes the simplest things can be the hardest to achieve, and they bring the best result anyway.”  
She replied sighing, resting heavily against the couch; then silently, ten minutes later, she handed satisfied the notebook back at him and waited.

“Let’s see.” He said, following the list with his eyes. “Summing up, you’re a good Agent, you’re great at shooting, you’re a silent and respectful person, not sure if I agree on this for the record, you’re a good listener and a master of crossword.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m amazing at it, besides, crosswords improve mental elasticity.” She explained.

“Are you serious? That’s not what I was talking about.” He said exasperated. “Ok, look at me. Now, tell me a thing you like about yourself, a physical one for a start.”

“I.. I don’t know.” She said, busying herself following the pattern of the pillow with her fingers.  
He tried to hide his impatience. “What about your eyes?” He asked her then, surprising them both.

“What about my eyes?”

“Do you like them?”

“Do you like them?” She said mechanically. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, forget it.”

“Such a lady you are.” He said amused.

“I’m a cop.” She replied, like it was the most logical justification.

“For the record, they’re quite beautiful, aren’t they?” He said nonchalantly, looking at everything except her.

“What?”

“Your eyes, Brienne.” He said, taking the pillow from her. “You’re going to rip it off if you keep doing that.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.” She stammered, collecting a lock of hair behind her ear. Then she took the bottle of water and gulped the whole content down.

“It was just a compliment.” He said, following her movements.

“I’m not used to them.” She replied and sensed he was trying to fight back the urge to say something more. She looked at the clock on the wall, realizing that they had already exceeded their available time.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to end this.” He said then, guessing her thoughts.

“You mean, I’m free to come back to work?” She said and he seemed disappointed by her eagerness.

“I meant for today, wench.”

“Right.” She said, standing up. He mimicked her movements, finding himself face to face with her.

“Time for homework.” He said in a fake seriousness.

“What?” She asked, loosing herself in his emeralds.  
He smiled at her concern. “When you come home, invite a friend, have dinner together, watch a movie or do whatever you want. Just, don’t stay alone tonight, ok?”  
She nodded, ruffling her hair with her fingers with the only purpose to have something to do. He reached out to fix the edge of her rollneck, slightly bent. She stilled at his gesture, fighting the urge to retreat.

“Breath.” He whispered and then his fingers touched the fabric lightly. “You know we will talk about that eventually.”

“About what?” She asked but he just tilted his head in response, analyzing her. Then, surprising her, He raised his palm, opening it in front of her.

“Touch my hand.”  
She lowered her eyes in panic. “That’s ridiculous, You perfectly know I can do that.”

“Prove it.” He said, his hand still stubbornly open in front of her. She sighed and raised her hand tentatively, trying to ignore the fact that her fingers were trembling. She shook it in frustration.

“This is nonsense.”

“Touch it.” He repeated patiently.  
She tried again, finding his palm and she touched it, every fingertip kissed its corresponding on his hand. “See? I’ve told you that..” when she was about to pull away, he interlaced their fingers together and kept her hand in place, closing it. Her breath became erratic but her eyes stayed fixed on his. “Let me.” He said, tightening his hold. His hand was warm and she was sure that he could feel her pulse point on her wrist against his skin.

“Keep looking at me.” He whispered, while her eyes became misty. She did, losing herself in his deep warmth, lulled by his voice that kept saying the same mesmerizing words over and over. His hand was warm, his eyes made of flames that could melt her. When the tears, still not fallen, in her eyes blurred her vision for a moment, she lost his eye contact and his skin suddenly felt cold. She closed her eyes and her mind became colored by blood; blood running from another one’s fingers.  
Blood and cold.

“No.” She said, in a small voice. She left his hand immediately, scratching his skin in the progress without giving him the time to say a word.

“See you next week.” She said at the end, leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's interested in finding more about Brienne's past?  
> Tell me if you liked it.  
> Thank you.


	4. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly different from what I thought, but some of you have asked me so nicely about Jaime POV and this is what happened. I promise that there will be more action in next chapters.  
> I hope you don't mind the slow burn.

                                                                

 

His fingers were throbbing the moment he had found himself standing in the solitude of his studio, like they were still in need to touch her. He had secretly enjoyed the way her pulse point had beaten against his skin, making their connection even more deep and essential, like a vivid confirmation that something was happening. Jaime was glad that she was the one in the spotlight because it was easier, this way, to hide how much meeting her had upset him in turn. Brienne was made by contradictions, a living enigma that had started to follow him even in his home once their session had ended; this fact alone, new and unexpected, had made him realize that he had started to care about her, surprisingly. He felt the inexplicable urge to protect her, to gain her trust, to make her understand that, with him, she could allow herself to be fragile and to rely on him even if maybe he was still a stranger, but with the presumption to already know her better than anyone else. She had told him that she had felt emptiness the moment her life had been threatened and he wondered why he had immediately felt the need to fill that emptiness.

He saw the folder containing her files on the table, as if a person’s life could be trapped into piece of paper, and realized that with a little peek into it, he could have discovered everything about her; the reason why she had escaped from his touch the moment she had closed her eyes. What he wouldn’t have found in those pages though, was the justification for that sense of lack he had felt the moment their contact had ended so abruptly, making him unable to stop her.

Maybe they had met to fill each other’s emptiness, he had always been a hopeless romantic after all.

Another thing he couldn’t explain to himself was why, once at home, he found himself with a crosswords book in his hand when his phone rang.

“Little brother.”

“Hi brother, I’ve just called to know if it’s confirmed for Friday.”

“Yep it is. “Strips in geography class”, six letters, what is it?”

“What?”

“Help me with this, you’re the clever one in the family.”

“Are you into crosswords now?”

“They improve mental elasticity.”

Tyrion sighed in the phone. “Ok, what’s her name?”

Jaime shrugged, “I don’t know what are you talking about.”

“Come on, crosswords are like kryptonite for you, besides, you’ve always been too slow.”

“Now you’re just mean.”

Tyrion chuckled in the phone. “Blonde or brunette?”

“Blonde.”

“Of course, not surprising.. where did you meet her?”

“She’s just a patient..”

“It’s the first time you talk about one of your patients, brother.” Tyrion said.

“Maybe because I can’t really talk about my patients?”

“Oh come on, save me that “professional secrecy” crap, you’ve never cared about it, anyway.”

“Awesome, you value me so highly.. slow and unprofessional, something else?”

Tyrion laughed in the phone, “Name?”

“Brienne.” Jaime replied immediately, loving that her name always came out from his mouth easily.“She’s just interesting, I mean, in a clinical way.. both confident and insecure, lonely but satisfied with her loneliness, at least on the surface.. and of course there’s more under it, but she’s still too diffident to expose herself.”

“Pretty?”

Yes, he thought. “Nah.” Jaime said instead. “I mean, not in a conventional way.. she’s intriguing though, there’s something about those eyes..”

“Brother.” He warned him. “She’s a patient.”

“I’m not interested in her that way, Tyrion.”

“So you say.” He replied. “Speaking of women, my secretary is still asking about you, you know, she says you’ve never called her back.”

“Lia?” Jaime asked, pretending interest.

“Pia, brother, three letters across, since you’re into crosswords now.”

“Yes, well maybe I’ll take her to dinner sometimes.”

“When?” Tyrion asked.

“Sometimes, don’t push it too hard.” He said dramatically.

Next session with Brienne was supposed to be in two days, but Jaime couldn’t stop thinking about that with a sense of anticipation that had never belonged to him. He realized with a hint of panic that he was starting to consider her just a woman and no more a patient, thing totally unprofessional and unusual to him, despite what his brother seemed to think.

Jaime’s relationship with women had always been complicated. He had lost his mom when he was ten and this tragedy combined with the austerity of his father made him finding comfort in his twin sister’s arms since that day. Cersei had been a replacement, a wrong one, especially when he realized that things between them were starting to get out of hands. The truth was that he couldn’t accept to grow up without affection and consideration, things that his childhood had made him translate into a need of perpetual contact. He needed to be hold, to be hugged, to be cuddled until this need and his puberty led him to complicate things with his sister. He didn’t know if had been a matter of attraction or a sense of lack at that point.  
After a night spent together at the age of eighteen, they had promised to each other to never do it again.  
They kept that promise and Jaime had never been more grateful for something before, wondering sometimes, if that night had really happened or it had been just a vivid fantasy in his teens.

He really hoped it was the second option, but pretty sure it was the first.

He had dated several women during the years, but his relationships hadn’t last more than a month, when once spent it, the sex wasn’t enough anymore. He felt an uncontrolled need to belong to someone alternated with the need of feel needed, sensing that no one could totally embrace his contradiction. Lately though, he had found himself trying to ignore that magnetic pull he felt every time the wench, his patient, stared at him with that fear of having revealed too much and his immediate urge to reassure her.

To be needed and to feel belonged.

What a strange combination.

“Tell me about the men of your life.” She burst out laughing and he silently asked himself if his question had been totally professional.

“Does the pizza delivery boy count?” She asked, amused, fidgeting with her hands.

“I’m serious here, wench.”

“Sorry.” She said, lowering her eyes and adjusting her position on the couch. “Well, my colleagues are all men.”

“How is your relationship with them?” He asked, not really sure if he was ready to find it out.

“Good, I guess. I mean, it’s civil, they respect me and that’s all.”

“What do you mean “that’s all”? Is this the only thing you search in a man? Respect?”

“It’s important.” She replied with a hint of irritation.

“It sure is, especially for a woman like you trapped in a job that it’s strictly mannish, you feel the need to always prove how good you are, especially to them. Am I close?”

“Sometimes people tent to not take me seriously.. until when I make it clear not to mess with me.” She replied.

“What about other men? Romantic stuff?” He asked casually, scribbling invented words on his notebook.

“God, no.”

“Why no?”

“I’m not really romantic material, you know.. men are not interested in me that way.”

“Bullshit.” He replied, leaning against the back of his chair.

“Excuse me?” She asked, grabbing her bottle of water.

“You’re just scared.” He said, then he took a breath to steady himself for his next question. “Last time you had sex?”  
He saw that she almost choked herself with the water in response. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“I’m your Psychologist, Brienne.” He said, not sure who was trying to convince.  
She blushed, busying herself with the fringes of the pillow.  
He looked at her, mesmerized by the blushing that was coloring her skin, making his voice softer, “Last time?”

“I.. I can’t remember.”

He smiled, “you can’t remember?”

“No. I mean, the first time was a little bit traumatic and.. that was my only time.” She said, not meeting his eyes.

“What happened?” He asked gently, already suspecting that this wasn’t an easy subject for her.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Have you reached the orgasm?” This time he was the one lowering his eyes after his question.

“Which part of “I don’t want to talk about it” you don’t understand?”

“Have you?” He insisted, ignoring her attempt of changing subject.

She sighed exasperated, “I strongly think that this will be our last session together but no, ok? I haven’t.”

“Have you ever?” He asked then, surprising himself. He raised his gaze, meeting her eyes and something stirred inside him. “No.” She replied. “The only orgasms I’ve ever had, had always come by me.”

He swallowed, interrupting their gaze, then tried to regain control. “Do you touch yourself? I mean, sexually.”

“Yes.” She whispered and he didn’t know if it was the new topic, but he felt the strange urge to kiss away her blush, letting that fantasy invading his mind for the first time.

“Great.. I mean, interesting.” He said then, half coughing.

“Interesting?”

“Well you’re not opposed to sex at least, good news.” He said too quickly, silently cursing himself a moment later.

She looked at him suspiciously. “I suppose, but the problem is that I don’t like to be touched.”

“I already know that.” He said, closing his notebook.

“Of course, Doctor Psychic.”

“Tell me about it, Brienne.” He said, ignoring her fragile attempt of humor.

“There’s no much to say.. it’s just.. I panic, when someone tries to touch me or just barely brush me, I start to tremble and I sweat and you know, breath accelerated, that kind of things, but that’s ok..I learned to live with it. I can’t remember how it’s called..something starting with f..”

“Haphephobia.” He interrupted her. “Phobia of being touched. Usually manifested with panic attacks, associated with youth traumas.”  
She barely nodded in response.  
“You know, it happens to people who suffered from lack of affection in their childhood.. just born we learn the importance of touch and how to deal with it if someone teaches us about it. It could seem a natural thing, but it’s not. If you aren’t used to this, we grow up refusing it and..”

“My mother died when I was two years old, and my father wasn’t a really warmhearted man.” She said, interrupting him.

“What happened with him?”

“Can we please talk about him another time?” She asked.

“Of course.” He said, but then he changed his mind. “Actually, I’m pretty sure the origin of your trauma comes form your father, would you please tell me about it?”

"I've said no.” She said fiercely.

“I’m sorry.” He said, meeting her gaze and she pierced his eyes in response.

“You know this thing, this phobia.. I guess it’s one of the reason I’ve never had a relationship, it’s just complicated, too complicated, besides I don’t really trust men.”

“Why so?” He asked her and she sighed, crossing her legs on the couch; he smiled at the confident gesture.

“Why it’s so easy talking with you, tell me again?”

“Because, for the first time, there’s someone who’s actually listening to you, wench.”

“Quite that, Doctor.” She said exasperated. “I was sixteen, Prom day, or better the day that every girl dreams since when she’s probably four years old. Of course I didn’t care about it, I had worst things to think about back then, but I went anyway. I wore one dress I found in my mother’s closet, after she died no one cared about giving away her stuff, and so it had been easy to me finding one. The problem was I looked ridiculous, my mother was shorter than me and the dress barely brushed my ankles with the result of me looking like there had been a flooding in my house, imagine that. It was pink too.”

He chuckled amused and she smiled.

“The funny thing was that eight different guys asked me to dance that night, everyone having good words for me, complimenting my eyes, my smile, my legs.. you know, that kind of things. One of them brought me a sunflower saying it reminded him of me because I was already tall back then and I always stuck out from the crowd, reaching the sky or the sun in that case. I had found it sweet.”

He smiled, “what happened then?”

“I got elected prom queen.” She said in a breath. “The headmaster called me on the stage, congratulating me.. I was on another planet really and I don’t know if it was the adrenaline of the moment or simply the fact that I had always secretly fantasied about it, but for a moment, I had truly believed it was true; that until a whole crowd of boys and girls started pointing and laughing at me, throwing insults and tomatoes in turn. The headmaster sheltered me, murmuring something about a mistake or a joke. The worst thing was that I found out later that there was a bet around about who would have been the first to take the prom queen’s virginity, that was the reason of the initial courting, I believe. From that day I can’t even watch a dance scene in a movie. It’s silly, but it still hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” He said immediately.

“Do you say it to all your patients?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said honestly.

“I’m not surprised.” She said, not hiding a hint of disappointment.

“But it’s the first time that I actually mean it.” He couldn’t resist to add. She met his eyes with her own, shiny; then he interrupted their gaze, stood up and went to his desk to grab his phone. Brienne watched him confused.

“What are you doing?” She asked him when she heard the first notes of a song coming from his phone.

“I’m exorcising your fears.” He said, approaching her. “Stand up.”  
She moved confused, facing him, keeping some space between them.

He looked at her and smiled. “Dance with me.” He said then, starting to sway, following the song.

“Don’t..” She barely said, retreating.

“I won’t touch you, I promise you.” He said softly. “I just want to come near you, can I?”  
She nodded silently, shortening the space between them. She tried to look at him but he could sense that the intensity of the moment made her lowering her gaze. “Because sad eyes never lie” they could hear in the background while a traitor tear was wetting her cheek.

“You like Springsteen, don’t you?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension; she nodded in response, unable to talk. “Good.”

“You always act like this with your patients?” She asked him seconds later and the real answer was no.

“I’m an unconventional psychologist, I thought you already knew that.”  
She shrugged in response. “Relax, wench! Why the past keeps haunting you? Try to stop it, you will miss the best things.” He whispered in her ear, careful not to touch her, even if his breath was making her shiver, judging by the goosebumps visible on her neck. She kept her eyes lowered and he suddenly felt the physical urge to reflect himself in them.

“Look at me.” He said, with a sweetness that had never belonged to him, silently noticing how those words were starting to be his favorite with her.  
She did and he discerned her upcoming tears. “Would you do me a favor?” He asked, getting a small nod in response. “Would you trust me for a moment?”

He had asked her to trust him for a bunch of minutes, he considered it a good compromise.

“Just for a moment.” She said weakly, but her expression changed when she felt his hand resting on her hip with the softest of the touch. She startled a little, ready to pull away and to face her usual demons when the same different sensation, the one she had started to associate with him, invaded her belly.

Warmth, unexpected warmth.

“Easy, warrior.. breath with me.” He said and then he started to inhale and exhale with her, while his hand accentuated his contact and he felt her leaning on it. They repeated the motion for some seconds, synchronized, until she calmed herself, her eyes still fixed on his, like she was searching for a rescue anchor in his gaze. His fingers started to dance against her covered skin until his hand, traveling from her hip, along her back, found her shoulder blade and pulled her against him delicately.

She smelled of cherries.

Her cheek was almost brushing his.

“You ok?” He asked her eventually, not really trusting his voice. She didn’t reply, but he saw her trembling hand along her leg moving toward him until she found his shoulder in the most innocent of the touches. “I guess it works like this, right?” She asked shyly, glancing at him.

He smiled in response, trying to ignore the melting sensation he was feeling inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Strips in geography class", anyone?  
> Bad news: I don't think I will be able to update in the next ten days, but I'll try anyway. I hope you'll wait for me.  
> Did you like Jaime POV?


	5. Colors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I could not do better. I apologise for any mistake, but I didn't have much time.  
> Warning: fluff.

                                                                 

 

Brienne, after that day, found out that her psychologist was a great dancer. Truth to be told, she couldn’t claim a great experience in that field, but she was pretty sure that the way she had hold her, like she was the most precious thing on the earth, was to ascribed to his incredible skills, not to an absurd and wrong interest toward her. She tried to ignore the fact that they had kept dancing even when the music was over or how his heart had beaten fast under her sweaty palm; even their goodbye had been different, awkward somehow, but intense. She had sensed that intensity born by the mutual desire not to leave each other, like the next session was already too far away. She knew she represented a challenge to him, nothing more, but lately she had started to see another truth in his gaze, in the same way he kept telling her that her eyes always told a different story to him; maybe they weren’t so different after all.

Both lonely, both liars, with the perpetual need of hiding their feelings away.

Every passing day Brienne found herself gripped to the feeling of his arms around her, wondering if her longing had been born by the overall novelty of being touched or by the particular sensation of being touched by him.

On Saturday, Margaery invited her on a Charity event she had personally planned, involving all the most important personalities of King’s Landing, but she declined her invitation, opting for a tranquil evening at home, considering that her week had already been too eventful.

She didn’t know how wrong she was.

Making groceries was one of Brienne’s passions, together with the shooting range and the crosswords. Then there was her cat, Springsteen, but since he was even more solitary than her, sometimes she almost forgot about his existence, thing for which she tried each time to make herself forgiven, buying the best selection of croquettes in circulation. That’s why she found herself staring at one of the countless Tesco’s shelf, scanning every product carefully. Her commitment was interrupted by a small hand pulling at her jeans. She looked down, surprised, to meet four big green eyes staring at her.

“What’s your name?” The kid asked her.

She smiled curious, “my name is Brienne.”

“Hi Brienne, we need to take two packs of those coquettes, over there.” The kid said, pointing at the shelf and Brienne burst out laughing. “It’s croquettes, idiot.” The baby girl said to him, annoyed. “I tell uncle you’ve called me that.”

Brienne interrupted their exchange. “You need this one?” They nodded in sync and she took two packs for them. “What’s your cat’s name?” She asked then.

They both stared at each other in panic. “We shouldn’t tell her.” She heard the boy whispering to the girl.

“I’m good at keeping secrets.” Brienne said serious, kneeling in front of them. The girl looked at the boy who nodded solemnly at her like he was giving her his silent consent.

“We still haven’t a cat.” She whispered. “Our uncle doesn’t want one.” “So, we have decided to buy coquettes so he needs to buy us one to finish them.” The boy added, proudly.

“It’s a great plan.” Brienne complimented them, trying to hide her amusement. “I actually have a cat, do you want to see him?” They almost screamed in response and she found herself sitting on Tesco’s floor, searching for Springsteen’s pics on her phone for two strangers kids waiting expectantly. “Here we are, this is Springsteen.”

“Wooooow, it’s so big.” The boy said. “Can we meet him?” Brienne laughed, enjoying the kids’ enthusiasm when a familiar voice gained her attention.

“Myrce, Tommen.. I’ve looked for you in the whole mall.”

“Uncle Jaime, we met Brienne and Springsteen.” She was too shocked to speak, so she stood up, removing the dust from her pants and looked sheepish at him. “Hi.” She said, at least. He looked at her and she found herself replying immediately at his smile.

“What are you doing here?” He asked surprised.

“You know, I eat sometimes.” She replied, while he kept staring at her.

“You eat cats’ food?” He asked her and she laughed in response. “Uncle Jaime, we met Springsteen.”

“We didn’t meet him, Tommen, we watched it on Brie’s phone.” Brienne almost laughed at the kid’s explanation. Jaime amused, raised an eyebrow toward her. “Springsteen?” He asked then.

“My cat… and yes, after Bruce.” She replied and he was the one laughing now.

“Seems like I’ve picked the right song, after all..” He said, glancing at her. The kids at that point, after some seconds of mutual smiles and awkward looks between the adults, gained the permission to go watching the toys’ corner, leaving them alone.

“Your nephews?” She asked him.

“Yes, my sister’s kids.” He said, sounding almost shy.

“You seem close.”

“Well, we really are.. my sister died five years ago in a car accident, her husband, the father of the kids, was with her and died too. They’re orphans.” He explained casually, lowering his eyes.

She almost held her breath, not expecting his confidence. “They stay with you?”

“Oh no, technically my brother Tyrion has their custody, he’s married, you know.. it was easier this way.. but we spend a lot of time together, thing for which my dear brother and his wife are very grateful.. newlyweds, you know.”

She smiled, hiding her blush. “Chicken wings' night?” She said, trying to change the subject and pointing at his groceries in the shopping cart.

“Yes, I hold the scepter of favorite uncle and I intend to keep it.” He said seriously.

“You should buy them a cat, then.”

“I can’t believe you’re already on their side.” He said, feigning to be offended. She laughed in response and he couldn’t tire his eyes away.

“You should do it more often.” He said; she looked interrogative at him, but their exchange was interrupted by the kids’ return.

“Let’s go home, chicken wings' night.” Tommen shouted out of the blue. Jaime smiled, “say hi to Brienne.”

“Hi Brienne.” They said together. “You should say hi too, uncle.” Myrcella added. “I was about to.” He muttered shyly to her nephew. “Hi, see you soon.” He smiled at her and she nodded in response; he looked at her for some moments and then turned toward the cash desk.

“Jaime.” She called him, searching his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He was startled by her words and tried to say something back in response but his voice stayed trapped in his throat. “Thanks.” He said at the end and when he was about to turn around again he added the only five words that weren’t supposed to cross his mind.

“Do you have plans tonight?” He asked, three pairs of eyes watching expectantly at her. She tried to formulate in her mind a believable justification, but in the end her honesty won.

“No.”

“Good, I hope you’re not one of those stubborn vegetarian then.”

“I.. actually I don’t think it’s a good idea, I mean.. you’re my..”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re right..” Jaime said back.

“Uncle Jaime said the word with the F, five pounds in the bowl.” Myrce said exulting, referring to their last favorite game consisting in a fine in money every time their uncle said a bad word. “Not now, Myrce.” Jaime muttered back.

“I mean, I know it’s nothing, but it would be totally unprofessional..” Brienne tried again.

“Yes, totally unprofessional.” He agreed immediately. “So, will you come?”

Brienne laughed and then she nodded.

Everything about what they were doing was wrong, but then, she wondered why it felt so right. The way he kept smiling at her without a reason and the readiness with which she immediately smiled back at him like it was the most natural thing to do; how, without a word, she had busied herself setting the table, without even asking him where to find the cutlery while he cooked the chicken; how, purposely, she had brushed his back more than once while taking the dishes from the pantry above him.

He smelled of cedar wood and fry.

She felt like something had switched between them after his confession; it was like living on the same floor, she wasn’t the only one being exposed on the terrace now, he had reached her outside and now they could both get messed up by the same air, sharing that vicinity.

“Dinner is ready.” Jaime said, interrupting her thoughts.

The kids settled down around the table while Brienne helped Jaime serving the meat. She went silent for a moment thinking about the absurdity of the situation, so domestic but still new for her.

“It’s the first time uncle Jaime invites a woman friend to our dinner.” Myrcella said, mouth half full.

“Really?” Brienne asked her, trying to hide her interest from Jaime’s gaze.

“Yep, uncle Jaime has no princess yet, he says he doesn’t have one because no one is pretty as me, his only princess.” She finished proudly, getting a wink in response from his uncle; Brienne smiled sweetly. “He’s right, Myrce, you’re beautiful.” Brienne told her.

“Yes, but uncle Tyrion finds a lot of pretty princesses for uncle Jaime, but he doesn’t want them, says they’re moring.”

“Boring, Myrce.” Jaime corrected her. “Anyway, I don’t think Brienne is really interested about..”

“One day uncle Jaime was out with a moring woman so he said to her that aunt Jenna had fallen from the stairs and she had broken a leg because he wanted to go home, but it wasn’t true.. he said a lie.” Tommen sneaked in, almost shouting.

Brienne now couldn’t help but laughing. “Seriously?” She asked to Jaime.

“She was really moring.” Jaime said with emphasis and she shook her head, smiling, in response.

“Aunt Jenna told him he was an asshole.” Tommen said and they all burst out laughing.

After dinner the kids occupied the couch, choosing a Disney movie and starting to watch it with the promise from the adults to join them once they had finished putting things in order. They reached them on the couch, Myrce and Tommen between them on the cushion. Twenty minutes later they fell asleep and Myrce’s head found Brienne’s leg. Jaime looked startled at her. “Is that ok?” He asked her, pointing at the fact that the kid was touching her, but Brienne didn’t mind.

“They’re cute.” Brienne suddenly said, resting the side of her head against the back cushion. Jaime mimicked her position, facing her. He looked down proudly at the kids. “I’m lucky.” He told her.

“They’re lucky.. to have you.” She said and Jaime shrugged in response, trying to hide how much her words had affected him.“I’m realizing lately how much is important to have someone.. it doesn’t matter in which role in your life.. just, have someone, a person.. just one. I used to believe that my perpetual need of independence didn’t allow me to have someone, but now, I’m not so sure about it, not anymore.. maybe I could make it work.” She said.

He stared at her, mesmerized by her voice and words. “Of course you could.”

She stared back at him. “You could too, you know? I bet it would be even easier for you finding one.”

“Why?” He asked, unable to look away; she raised an eyebrow in response like the answer to that question was the most logic one.

“It was nice, tonight.” She said instead, changing subject; then she noticed his reaction and added, “I know this was nothing, don’t freak out.. but it was nice nonetheless.”

“I’ve never said it was nothing, you were the one saying that.” He said, looking at her, but she lowered her eyes, suddenly finding him a little too close. He reached out to play with a lock of her hair with his fingers and then he put it around her ear. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” He whispered to her.

She swallowed, but then she found the courage to reply. “How do you see me?” He took a breath, bracing himself for his answer, but when he was about to talk, Tommen stirred between them, breaking the spell. “Uncle Jaime, I want to go to bed.”

Jaime sighed, standing up. “Ok kids, let’s go.” Brienne mimicked him. “I should probably go, it’s late.” She said, greeting the kids and walking toward the door.

“I would drive you home, if I wasn’t stuck with these two.” He said, following her.

“No problem, I’ll walk home.” She replied, opening the door and turning toward him, now in front of her.

“Non sense, I will call you a cab.” Jaime said immediately.

“Nah, walking is fine.”

“It’s eleven o’ clock, wench.. I don’t want you to walk home alone.” He said instead.

“Oh come on, I’m a cop, Jaime.”

“Yes, but..” He contradicted her.

“Jaime, I said I’m ok.”

“Yes, right.. I’m sorry.” He said shyly.

She studied his expression. “It’s the first time someone worries about me.” She said, surprising him.

“I know, I shouldn’t have..”

“It’s sweet.” She interrupted him. “You’re sweet.”

He looked at her, swallowing. “Sweet dreams, Brienne.”

“Night Jaime.”

Once Myrcella and Tommen were asleep in their beds, Jaime immediately took his phone and dialed a number, realizing, surprised, that his fingers were almost shaking.

“Pick the damn phone.” He muttered to the air.

“Lannister?”

“Catelyn, yes, that’s me, I need to speak to you.” He said, not hiding his nervousness.

“It’s almost midnight, Lannister, are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.. this is important.” He said, sitting on the couch, one hand in his hair.

“What is it?”

“I can’t do it anymore.” He simply said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Brienne, Catelyn.. I can’t be her psychologist anymore.. I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

Jaime took time because his answer, the real one would have been too enormous to accept. “I’m not helping her.” He said instead. “It’s not working, we’re not compatible.”

“This is strange.” Catelyn replied. “Brienne seems to think quite the contrary, I have her report here in front of me, she’s very satisfied.. she says, and I quote, “I feel like I’m starting to live in color, maybe they’re not all pleasant, there’s black and gray too, but now I can see them. I feel like I’m not a shadow anymore.”

Jaime contemplated her words, smiling softly to himself. “Did she really say that?”

“Yes Lannister, what’s going on?”

I’m falling in love with her, his mind whispered. “Good night, Catelyn.” He said, ending the call. He looked at his phone in his hand, fighting the urge to call her, to tell her that a woman with those astonishing blue eyes couldn’t allow herself not to see her life in color and how he wanted to show her every possible shade, like all the different ones adorning her blushing skin.

-Text me when you’re home.

He wrote her instead, then he closed his eyes, letting himself lulled by the cherry scent that still lingered on the couch and thinking of an excuse to cancel their next session.

He was good at making excuses, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cersei as evil character, but I think that this story already has a good percentage of angst; besides, my eyes can't stand Jaime and Cersei together anymore. I hope you're ok with my choice.  
> What do you think about this chapter?  
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments.


	6. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are not easy days for me, I hope this won't affect this story. This was my favorite chapter to write, there's angst, tension, but sweetness too. I hope you like it as much as I've loved writing it.

                                                                

 

It was raining the day in which she realized how she had begun to depend on him. She had always had a deep relationship with the rain, it seemed to follow her silently, most of the times, unnoticed, to hit her with its punctuality, never missing one of her epiphanies.

It was raining after that prom night, her dress made even heavier by the water on the return road, when she had refused to cry and she had left the rain wash her cheeks in her place, creating an alternative outburst; the day she found out about his father’s death, it had been a different rain, a gray one that hadn’t left the space for any kind of romanticism; it was raining when Catelyn Stark admitted her in her unit, but that rain had been light, fresh drops that smelled of hope.

There was rain again the day she almost broke her ankle and started to crumble inside, yielding to his irresistible lure.

When, that afternoon, she found out that Catelyn Stark had postponed her return on the unit, because despite her collaboration, she still had to complete the mandatory hours with her psychologist, her rage took her body on the cycle lane coasting the Blackwater, her favorite training shoes on her feet while her neon blue tank top and her leggings covered the nervousness radiating from her skin. She started to jog, enjoying the sensation of the warm asphalt under her soles. Two nights before, Margaery had asked her Jaime’s number, mumbling some incoherent reasons, and she had given her, ignoring the sensation of powerlessness she had felt inside.

She had wanted to be the only one to have his number, to know that one night, when her scared pride would have finally given her a truce, maybe she would have called him, asking him, with cautious words, to lull her into slumber, like he had promised to her before; but she hadn’t any exclusive on him, never had.

Besides, after that innocent evening spent in his house, Jaime had disappeared;

She had texted him, once arrive in her home, and she had heard from him just when, two days after, he had canceled their session due to a sudden family problem. She had asked him if everything was alright, with the silly hope to occupy an imaginary role in his life, but he had never answered back.

The problem was that there was another urge, now that she had learned more about his past, that kind of urge born by the presumption of being able to help him carry his pain in turn, like there was a silent accord between two people that, still unknown to each other and miles away, had already shared the same days of tragedy in their disconnected lives.

When she realized that the clouds above her had became darker and she could feel the first drops of water on her skin, she came back. The rain though, became wild, turning into a summer rainstorm and making the return home an incredible venture, especially when, mind still trapped in thoughts she couldn’t allow herself to have, she stumbled and fell due to a bump in the asphalt. The pain arrived almost immediately and she cursed her stupidity silently. Then, it happened that thing that happens when you have promised to yourself all day to hold back the tears that were haunting you since the morning and, one precarious event, maybe the stupidest thing, challenges the resistance of your balance and at the first hesitation, you crumble. She started to cry, not able to discern anymore her tears from the drops of rain. There were tears of physical pain, of failure, shame and loneliness.

She took her phone that had been securely trapped in the waistband of her leggings and dialed Margaery’s number, but she didn’t reply. “Of course.” She mumbled to herself, the anger growing inside.

Then her phone rang.

She didn’t even check the name, presuming it was her friend calling back.

“Brienne? I’m so sorry but I call you to postpone once again our next meeting, I’m so busy lately and I have an appointment I can’t cancel, I have to give the priority to..”

“Well, that’s typical, isn’t it? I’m not surprised” She cut Jaime’s voice, trying to hide her own altered by the tears.

“What are you talking about?”

“You all seem to ditch me at some point, I understand it, why wasting time with me? I thought you were more professional, though.”

“Brienne, I’ve asked you to postpone our meeting, not to cancel it.”

“It seems the same to me, especially since it’s the fucking second time in a row, but anyway, as you said, there are priorities.. and it seems I’m still no one’s priority at the moment. God I’m rumbling, have a nice date anyway! text me the hour of our new next meeting, bye.”

“Wait, wait.” He said, interrupting her. “What’s wrong?”

She almost laughed, due to the absurdity of the situation.“What’s wrong? Let’s see, where do I start? Oh yes, Catelyn Stark doesn’t want me to come back to work even if I’ve been more than collaborative with the whole situation and besides it’s not even my fault if my psychologist keeps ditching me for no reason; Margaery doesn’t answer the damned phone, Springsteen escaped two days ago and never come home, guess he was fucking tired of my company as well and I think I’ve almost broken my ankle.”

“Your ankle? Where are you?” And she was surprised to find concern in his voice. His question still lingered in the air, bothered just by the sound of the rain. “Brienne, are you outside?”

“Cycle lane, near the Blackwater.” She replied, sneezing in the phone.

“Give me five, don’t move.” Like she could. She ended the call and the gravity of what had just happened hit her.

When Jaime arrived, the rain had almost stopped, turning into light drizzle, but she was already soaked at that point. “You’re a mess.” He greeted her and she snorted in response, her tears now forgotten and previously dried to avoid his scrutiny.

“You need to take my hand, so I can lift you, you’re ok with it?” She perfectly knew why he was asking, but she didn’t know if she was more moved or annoyed by his delicacy. She offered him her hand and he took it, lifting her with an easiness that surprised her. She found herself face to face with him and closer than she was expecting. He took some moments to look at her and she felt her traitors tears coming back and pooling in her eyes again. The first one fell, caressing her cheek and he seemed to follow its path with his eyes, until, he brushed it off quickly with his thumb. “Let’s go home, wench.” She didn’t say a word and followed him, leaning on his side, an arm around his neck, his left one on her hip.

She guided him to her condo with faint gestures, always in silence, while he was driving, ignoring the pain of her ankle now become impossibly swollen; once inside she saw him pausing, scanning her from head to toes. “You need to change, you’re soaked.”

She tried to ignore the inappropriate sensation his words had given to her. “Of course, I can do it.”

“No, you can’t.” He contradicted her, but she didn’t listen to him, hopping on one foot, feeling incredibly ungainly and entering in her room; he followed her. “See? I’m perfectly able to do this alone, now if excuse me.” She said, inviting him to leave the room; thing that he was starting to do, until he heard her whimper in pain.

He turned to find her slightly bent, a hand under her tank top on her rib cage. “What is it?” He was immediately next to her.

She wanted to put some distance between them, appealing to a panic that had never come. “I don’t know, I’ve tried to remove this, but apparently I can’t move.”

He closed the space between their bodies, then he grabbed the hem of her tank top and raised it slowly, peeking under it. “God, wench.”

“What is it?”

“A big bad bruise.” He said, scowling. “Raise your arms, delicately.”

She immediately blushed. “What? No.”

“Let me help you, God, you’re so stubborn.”

“Why are you ditching me?” She asked him instead.

“Raise your arms.” He said again, sounding almost angry.

“Why are you ditching me?” She insisted.

“Raise your arms, wench.” He told her, now patiently, still ignoring her words and she did, surrendering to his kindness. He removed the tank top from her body, careful not to touch her in any uncomfortable way, his eyes never leaving hers. She was wearing a sport bra under it and he glimpsed at it quickly, finding light blue, freckles and goosebumps on her chest, but he focused on her eyes again almost immediately. She was following his stare, unable to pull away. He stopped, pressing his forefinger on her clavicle to wipe away a drop of water, then his fingers followed that path toward her left shoulder, finding the strap of her bra, totally twisted. He took it and started to fix it.

“I’m ditching you because of this.” He said in a low voice, finding her eyes again. She frowned in response, unable to understand his words. He was mesmerized by her adorable confusion, but then he resumed his task, taking the t-shirt she was holding and putting it on her, lowering it carefully on her body.

“What are you talking about?” She asked him, her voice trembling.

He smirked. “Do you think this is what I usually do with my patients, wench?” He asked bitterly. “I go to their houses and I help them to get dressed when they’re soaked because they’ve been stubborn enough not to check the weather forecast before going out, or I simply run every bloody time I discern something is off in their voices?”

He was breathing heavily now and she could sense his struggle due to their vicinity. She should have felt the need to take a step back but she stayed still instead, her eyes finding his lips.

“Nobody has asked you to do it.” She said then, finding his eyes again.

“That’s the fucking point.”

He was still holding the hem of her t-shirt against her hip and she had never imagined she could totally depend on a small contact like that.

“I don’t trust the weather forecast.” She said suddenly.

He almost laughed. “Why I’m not surprised? You will ever trust if not someone, at least something in your life?”

“I trust you.” She said, surprising him. She felt his fingers tightening around the fabric of the t-shirt, like he was trying to pull her closer to him.

“I need to help you also with these.” He said, changing subject and pointing at her leggings. She nodded, not trusting her voice anymore. He tucked his hands inside the waistband and pulled them down, but his fingers brushed her hips in the process. “I’m sorry.” He whispered and she almost didn’t recognize his voice. He bent in front of her to remove them and she put both hands on his shoulders to keep the balance.

“You caught a cold, wench. You’re covered in goosebumps.” He said, his breath caressing her thighs, worsening the situation. She handed him a pair of pants that was on her bed behind her and he dressed her, careful with her ankle.

He stood up then, her hands still on his shoulders and he found her eyes. “Was it ok?” He asked insecure.

It was perfect, she would have wanted to say, but she nodded instead, smiling briefly.

He led her to the couch then, explaining that she needed to keep her foot lift up. “I go take some ice, where can I find a painkiller?” He asked her.

“Bathroom’s cabinet.” She replied. “And without poking around.” She added then to his back, raising her voice and trying to break the tension.

She would have never known that he had just found a box of condoms and he had sighed in relief after checking the expiry date and realizing that the box was totally intact, finding a confirmation of her words during their previous session. He reached her in the living room when she was lying down on the couch, her head resting on the pillow; he handed her the pill, then he sat on the floor, his face close to hers.

“Can you move it?” He said, pointing at her ankle and she nodded. “At least it’s not broken.”

She turned her head toward him and they stared at each other silently, not wanting to interrupt their favorite contact. Suddenly she spoke. “How do you see me?”

Her question startled him. “Why are you asking it?”

“You owe me an answer.” She answered, smiling.

He took a breath and she could see he was struggling. “I see you as a Rubik’s cube.”

She laughed a little, surprised. “I can’t deny I’m a little disappointed.” She said amused.

“Be patient wench.” He said, laughing in turn. “An unsolved Rubik’s cube, a wench’s cube.. all the colors mixed together.. but not the classic colors, there are just beautiful and rare shades, almost impossible to discern due to their uniqueness and you know why it’s difficult to solve it?” When she shook her head, eyes glassy, he kept talking. “Because you haven’t mixed them together by yourself, but life, the bad one, did the job for you and you didn’t fight back.” She lowered her chin, escaping his gaze, but he put his fingers under it, raising it and finding her again. “The difficult part now is to put the colors back in their place, orderly, finding a perfect symmetry, a balance, your balance; then, once at their place, you’ll be able to twist them as you want, in the craziest possible ways, creating your personal, incoherent universe and I bet it would be so beautiful to be part of it. Then, in that moment, the cube will be finally solved.”

Some seconds passed between them, like she was trying to register his words.

“You won’t fix me.” She said at the end in a barely audible voice.

“Let me try.” He immediately replied, like he was already expecting her words.

“I’m not worth it.”

“Let me be the one deciding that.” He said softly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her forehead.

She held her breath.

“Funny couple we are.” He said amused.

“W-Why?”

“You don’t like to be touched and it seems I can’t help but touching you.”

She stilled. She would have wanted to tell him how his touch was changing everything at that point, but she found herself replying instead, “Please, don’t stop.” He hesitated, trying to find the confirmation of her words in her eyes; when he found it, he started to caress her hair and she closed her eyes, indulging in his warmth. “Jaime?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t ditch me anymore.” She said, eyes still closed, like she was afraid of his answer.

“Sleep.” He whispered instead.

“Stay.” She replied back.

He kept stroking her hair until he was sure she fell asleep, then, not able to hold back the urge, he shortened the distance between them and kissed her forehead. “Try to have the sweetest dreams, wench.” He said against her forehead.

That night he slept in her guestroom, the same words still echoing in his mind.

I trust you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and put a smile on my face.


	7. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, you're amazing!I'm glad you're following and enjoying this story, THANK YOU.  
> Warning: some sexual references, I hope you're ok with it. Anyway, this fic is rated M.

                                                                

 

Her scream interrupted his delirious slumber; delirious because her bed sheets smelled of cherry, the rain had resumed its fury and his mind was filled by the memory of her skin, colored by goosebumps and drops of water. He thought about how would have been if his mouth had sucked away every single drop from her body, finding an alternative way to dry it, her fingers in his hair to keep him still or to guide his movements where she needed them the most, while he could feel her shuddering softly under his lips; the temptation to remove the strap of her bra with his teeth to expose her shoulder and to follow its length with the tip of his nose, scratching her skin with his beard, to bite gently at the conjunction with her neck, instead of fixing it with trembling fingers like he had done.

He just hoped that she hadn’t notice his trembling.

How would have been to teach her how to make love and how to receive it in turn, totally yielding to it, without shame, unreservedly. He was feeling the desire, more like the urge, to be the one who would have made her feel wanted, powerless in his arms; a powerlessness provoked by love and not pain, for once; he wanted to be the one who would have fulfilled fantasies she didn’t even know to have.

His hand found his erection under the sheets and caressed it lightly, just once, imaging how shy and delicate would have been her touch; he grabbed it gently through his pants while another memory filled his wandering mind, _“The only orgasm I’ve ever had, had always come by me.”_

He still hadn’t decided the way she usually touched herself;

maybe delicately, in the same way she would have touched a man, or more boldly, desperately needing to fill up the lack and the emptiness come from her fear of being touched. Both perspectives made his fingers move inside his boxer, his nose buried in the cherry scented pillow, wondering if that scent followed her even in the most secretive parts of her body, adding that personal hint to her intimate flavor.

_What have you done to me?_

He sighed, interrupting abruptly his movements and feeling ashamed. He was touching himself in her guestroom, like a teenager boy, while his only purpose should have been to try to collect her broken pieces and to fix her, without lusting for her. He went in the bathroom to wash his hands and to cool his dirty mind and body.

Then there was that scream, the one that made him abandon his train of thoughts to run toward the couch in the living room. He knelt immediately in front of her, trying to decipher the situation. “Brienne? It’s ok, it was a nightmare.” He said, his hand found immediately her cheek; but she was breathing hardly, struggling with her tears. He yielded to the urge to cup her other cheek, framing her face in his hands, and touching her forehead with his own to gain her attention.

“Look at me” He said, burying his fingers in her hair. “Look at me, sweetheart! You’re safe.” Her eyes snapped open after the term of endearment and he wondered if he was the first man who had called her like that.

He selfishly hoped so.

She seemed to answer to his curiosity when her hands curled around his wrists to accentuate their contact, like it was a kind of reward for his sweetness.

How this woman could inspire him lust and tenderness in a matter of seconds was beyond his understanding.

“Jaime.” She whispered.

“I’m here.” He said, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, their lips dangerously close until she sighed, lowering her head and he kissed her forehead instead.

When she left his wrists, he knew their exchange was over; his hands caressed her cheeks for a last time, brushing away the tears. He sat on the floor, like he had done the previous night, giving her some moments to collect herself.

“Bad dream?” She nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She immediately replied and he couldn’t be able to hide his disappointment. “Not now, I mean.. soon, I promise.” She added.

“You need to do it for yourself, not for me.” He answered, trying to hold back a hint of annoyance in his voice.

She frowned, surprised. “I know.” And then she added, “I’ll talk about it with my psychologist if he’ll stop ditching me.”

“Funny.” He said, sounding not really convincing. “Speaking of which.. we need to talk, wench.”

“I’m here.”

“We need to stop this.” He said, pointing between them; when she looked at him confused, he clarified. “We need to stop seeing each other outside the sessions.”

She opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out.

“Are you listening to me?” He asked her, impatient; she didn’t seem to understand how much that conversation was costing to him.

She sighed, laying on the couch, their faces at the same level. “we’re not doing anything wrong.” She whispered and he was hit by a new wave of tenderness.

Not yet.

He raised his hand with the only purpose to touch her again, but, at the end, he changed his mind, restraining himself and putting it on the armrest near her head. “You need a psychologist, Brienne.”

“Ok.” She sounded almost defeated.

“Just a psychologist, nothing else, nothing more.” He explained to her, searching her eyes, but soon noticing that something in her gaze had changed.

“Nothing else, nothing more? Ah, I see..” Her words came out flat, sounding even colder. “That’s only what a woman like me can aim to, right? Just a fucking psychologist.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“No, it’s ok.. you just wanted to be clear about your position like I was stupid enough to think it was even possible that a man like you could..” She stopped.

“Could what?”

“Forget it. You know what? You’re right.. a woman like me just needs a psychologist in her life..”

“Stop it.” He snapped back, raising his voice, and they looked at each other for some seconds. He looked at her lips, mesmerized, then he touched the lower one with his thumb, tracing the contour. It was lightly chapped. “There are no women like you.”

She swallowed and then she turned her face, interrupting the contact. “You should go.”

He looked at her, but she didn’t return his gaze; he didn’t know if he was more hurt by her words or annoyed by how much they were right. He sighed, standing up. “Put some ice again on that.” He said, pointing at her ankle and she nodded, still not looking at him. “I’ll see you in three days, then.”

“See you, Doc.” She said and he didn’t like the sarcasm in her voice.

* * *

Their session was a disaster; there was a new awkwardness in the air that had never belonged to them before. That sensation born by the duty to be distant, cold, professional, like both of them were trying to take a step back, more than one, and they were pretending that they didn’t have already burst that bubble made by attraction and mutual desire.

He had wanted to touch her the moment she had stepped in his studio, but he couldn’t, so he decided to caress her just with his gaze instead.

She wore a tight, too tight for his sanity, pair of jeans and a white silk shirt, the first two buttons down, revealing porcelain skin; the scratches of the assault now totally disappeared, like he had already noticed days before, and replaced with a new sweet confidence that excited and confused him even more.

They talked about safe things, like her job, her ambitions and her perspective on the future; he knew that they needed to recreate a connection, their previous sessions were too far away and besides, they had developed a different kind of bond now, always built on trust, but on something else too, something unbidden that could risk to interfere with the therapy.

“I almost forgot, I’ve taken these.” She said, handing him some pics.

He took them, surprised, and smiled. “Springsteen?”

“For the kids.” She explained shyly. “He’s basically napping in almost all the pics, but here, he was trying to typing on my laptop.. and here he was sitting on my copy of “War and Peace”..he’s an intellectual.”

Jaime laughed, looking at the pics. “I bet they will love them, thanks.”

“Yes, I thought that, since we can’t see each other anymore, this was the only way… I mean, they seemed very eager to meet him.”

Jaime looked at her, trying to restrain that incredible urge to take her in his arms; he smiled at her and she replied to his smile. He thought about how could have been to have her in his life, like a constant presence, his personal landmark, a new friend for his nephews, maybe an aunt someday.

He felt a melting sensation inside.

It was the first time that thoughts like those crossed his mind.

And then there was that purpose, the one that didn’t seem to leave his head;

he wanted to make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

She was fidgeting with her hands that rested on her knees. He slid on his chair, reaching the edge of it to be close to her; his hands moved and found hers, their fingertips touched, making a strange dance, like they were finding themselves after a long time. They kept caressing each other, enjoying that small contact. “When this will be over..” Jaime said. “We could..”

“We could what?” She interrupted him, her eyes piercing his and he found so much hope in them that his answer remained trapped in his throat, the fear of saying too much invaded his mind.

“I mean, one day the kids could actually meet Springsteen... I’m sure my brother Tyrion would be happy too.”

She frowned, disappointed and her hands retreated. Jaime resumed his position on the chair, trying to hide his frustration.

Then she said the only words he would have never wanted to hear from her.

“I have a date tonight.”

He looked deeply at her, like he was hoping to find a lie behind her words. “I’m sorry?”

She sighed. “I have a date, Jaime.”

“With a man?” He asked, surprised.

She couldn’t hide she was annoyed by his reaction. “Yes, with a real man..I know it’s unbelievable.”

“I didn’t mean like that.” He said, interrupting her and trying to recompose himself. “How do you know him?”

“Narcotics, he’s a colleague.. his name is Tormund.”

“Good.. I’m.. I’m happy for you.”

“Yes, well, I’m a little bit nervous..”

“He has already asked you out, wench.. it means he’s interested, the difficult part is gone.” He said, not bearing to look at her.

“Ok.” She said, fidgeting with her fingers again. “What should I wear?”

Her question surprised him, and he found out he was actually mad at her presumption. She was asking him how to impress another man. “I’m a psychologist, not a personal shopper.”

“Sorry.” She said, collecting her things and approaching the door, their time together already ended.

He passed his fingers in his hair and sighed, following her movements. “Blue.”

She turned, looking interrogatively at him.

“Wear something blue. It looks good on you...” He said, now looking at her. “But...if you want to really knock him out.. then wear red, Lannister red.. I bet it would look incredible on you.”

She gripped the handle tighter and smiled at him, nodding.

When she was gone, Jaime noticed that the piece of paper in his pocket had turned into a crushed ball in his palm. He took his phone and dialed Tyrion’s number.

“Brother? Hi, could you please send me Lia’s number… yes Pia, that’s what I’ve said.”

* * *

She didn’t know why she had accepted his invitation in the first place. She didn’t like him, not in a romantic way at least, she wasn’t even attracted by him.

It was his fault, it was totally his fault; Jaime didn’t realize how many things he had changed since he had entered in her life. Every time he touched her, she felt something burst inside; his touch was an addiction, the warmth after a winter day spent outside, the breath of air after a too prolonged apnea, the dissolution of her fears.

His touch made her feel safe and without balance at the same time.

The problem was that his touch had started to make her feel desired too. It wasn’t an impersonal touch, it was both planned and spontaneous, like he was careful to calibrate every single gesture to succumb, in the end, to his real impulses. At least, that was what she was hoping.

She had dreamed about his father’s death that night, but then, once awakened, he had taken everything away with sweet words and his fingers in her hair. She had wanted to prolong the contact, she had wanted to be brave enough to initiate it for once, but the only thing she could do, was lose herself in his affection and his emeralds.

His lips had been so close, so tempting.

She wondered what it would be like to be kissed by a man like him, to be hold, to be explored by his tongue on her skin, eager to taste her, to make her feel wanted; then there was his voice and she thought about how much she would have liked to shudder under his hot whispers in her ear.

She was pretty sure she would have come just with that.

_Wear something blue..But...if you want to really knock him out.. then wear red, Lannister red.. I bet it would look incredible on you._

Jaime’s words kept haunting her since she had come back home and every time that they played in her mind, she seemed to recognize a hint of seduction that she hadn’t quite caught in the beginning.

There was just a man she wanted to impress and that man wasn’t Tormund.

She opened her wardrobe and found a sleeveless blue shirt and picked it combined with her favorite pair of skinny jeans. She looked at the mirror, adjusting the waves of her hair that almost touched her shoulder. She allowed herself a hint of mascara, wondering why she was trying so hard.

Maybe because in her mind, that night she would have dinner with another man.

She met Tormund in a little restaurant near the river and his smile, when she appeared. made her feel even guiltier.

“You’re a ray of sunshine.” He greeted her with that indecipherable accent, and she realized, minutes later, that she still hadn’t spoken a word; she noticed also the fourth glass of wine coming down her throat. Suddenly everything coming out from his mouth seemed really funny. Tormund, encouraged by her response and omitting the fact that she had already called him Jaime at least three times, saying it was her cat’s name as a justification, started to shorten the distance between their seats without Brienne really playing attention to it. He seemed to take her laughter like a strong encouragement and the moment she saw him getting close and brushing the corner of her lips with his mouth, Brienne immediately retreated while her fist found his nose.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” She mumbled while she started trembling, the alcohol worsening her panic.

“Are you crazy, or what?” He said incredulous, looking at her.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, I mean.. I kinda like it, to be honest..” He said excited, reaching for her hand on the table.

“Leave my hand, immediately.” She said, trying to stay calm.

“Relax woman, I’m just..”

“Leave me, now.”

He tossed some money in front of her and left the restaurant.

She started to breath irregularly while her hand found her phone in the purse.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’ve called me at the end.” Pia said, blinking seductively.

“I was very busy in these days, dear.” Jaime said, tilting the glass, his fifth glass of wine, toward her.

“Well, then let's make sure this won’t be a wast of time.”

She smiled a secret smile, his one didn’t reach his eyes.

After thirty minutes spent talking about her childhood and about the countless beauty contests she had taken part into, Jaime regretted the moment he had dialed his brother’s number.

Strange thing the jealousy.

Because it had been a matter of jealousy, it was useless to deny it; it wasn’t that feeling of possession toward a patient or his ego not accepting that she had chosen another man, it was romantic jealousy, the one who made him mad just thinking about the fact that she had dressed to impress another man, a man that, that night, could lose himself in her sapphires and in her blushing skin.

He wondered what would have happened if this man had tried to touch her and a hint of panic hit him.

“Jaime, are you here?” Pia asked him concerned. “I’ve asked you if you’ve ever been in love..”

“No.” He simply said.

“No?”

“I mean, yes!”

“Yes?”

“I am in love.. I am in love right now.”

“You are in love right now?”

He frowned in confusion. “Gods, I am fucking in love.”

“With me?” She asked faintly.

“With you?”

“Oh God..”

He was about to reply when his phone started to ring; he looked at the screen, trying to hide his emotion.

“I’m so sorry. I need to take this.” He said, leaving the table.

* * *

“Jaime?”

She was breathing heavily in the phone. “Brienne, what happened?”

“Jaime, I need you.”

“Where are you?”

“I know we agreed to stop..”

“Fuck it, where are you?”

“Duskendale.”

“Don’t move, see you in five.” He said, ending the call. He entered like a storm in the restaurant, excusing himself with the poor woman in front of him and asking her at least to make him pay the bill and a taxi for her.

Work emergency, he had called it and she had believed him.

Jaime was pretty sure he had never run faster in his whole life, his car forgotten due to the amount of wine he had drunk during the dinner.

The moment he saw her in front of the restaurant, the wind messing up her hair while her hands were nervously dueling one against the other, his heart melted a little. He approached her and called her softly. When she saw him, in three steps she was in his arms. He cupped her head, keeping her still while he felt her arms tightening around him; with the other hand he removed some messy locks from her cheek and then he put his own against it.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you.” He whispered in her ear.

Then when he noticed she was trembling and her arms had sneaked under his jacket, he interrupted for a moment the embrace, removing his jacket and putting it on her shoulders.

Her arms were still locked around him like she was afraid of leaving him.

“What happened?” He asked, embracing her again.

“I panicked.” She whispered in his ear. “He touched me..he tried to kiss me and I panicked.”

“I’m touching you.” He said, brushing her temple.

“With you is different.”

He tightened the embrace when a sudden thought came in his mind. “You’re wearing blue.”

Blue not red.

“Do I look bad?” She asked, still pressed against his cheek, almost scared to look at him. He interrupted the contact, distancing himself a little and then he looked at her from head to toes, pretending to be in deep concentration; after some seconds, he couldn’t stop his hand when it traveled under her shirt, caressing her naked back with his fingertips and taking her body back against his.

He felt her holding her breath. “I was wrong.” He said.

When she looked confused at him, he resumed talking. “It seems that I’ve made a serious mistake, wench.” His fingers following the length of her spine, until they met the back of her bra and went under it. “Two errors, actually.. First thing, I’ve drunk too much wine, second thing..” He leaned in and found her ear with his lips, caressing it, then he whispered. “You’ve totally knocked me out in blue too.”

She was the one now leaning her forehead against his. “Jaime?”

“Yes?”

“Take me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAH, we're getting close, or not?  
> PS: Poor Pia, she's us.  
> PPS: I would like to have a banner for this fic, but I'm totally clueless in this matter. Anyone wants to help?  
> PPPS: English is NOT my first language, never forget it!  
> Let me know if you liked it.


	8. Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, YOU ARE AMAZING.  
> I've added some aesthetics to this story, you can find a different one for every chapter, hope you like it!  
> Warning:  
> angst: mention of suicide.  
> Fluff: idiots at the carnival.  
> Sexy time.

                                                        

 

Lightness. 

That was what she was feeling with her hand curled around his arm, the breeze messing her hair, their feet synchronized, like they were following a secret coordination’s plan.  


_Take me home _, she had told him, forehead against forehead, the excitement provoked by his touch still vivid in goosebumps on her back; but he had surprised her once more.  
__

__“I don’t think it’s a good idea, wench.” Then he had noticed her disappointment because, when she was ready to pull away, his hand had sneaked around her head to keep her still, his fingers buried in her hair, almost a little painfully, in a possession gesture that had made her feel both hopeful and weak.  
_ _

__“I’ve drunk too much, you have drunk too much.” He had told her against her cheek, his lips caressing her skin.  
_ _

__Then she had looked at him, gathering all the innocence she had found. “I’ve only asked you to take me home, Jaime.” The tip of her tongue touching her upper lip.  
_ _

__He had following her movements with his eyes, enjoying her sweet attempt of flirting. “Stop doing that.”  
_ _

__“Doing what?” she had asked him innocently. He had pressed his forefinger on her lips and she had touched it imperceptibly with her tongue.  
_ _

__He had sighed.  
_ _

__“Let’s take a walk.”  
_ _

__They were still walking, sometimes her hand slid down, following his arm, finding his wrist and encircling it, she wondered if she would have been brave enough to take his hand before the night was over.  
_ _

__She looked at him and she realized that she had never seen him more carefree; she didn’t know if it was the wine or her presence to make him feel like that. Then she noticed his clothes, the elegant green shirt that made his eyes even more vivid, his tight jeans, his hair perfectly in order and something hit her.  
_ _

__“Jaime, where were you tonight?”  
_ _

__Her question seemed to surprise him.“I was out.. for dinner.”  
_ _

__She was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. “Oh Gods.”  
_ _

__“What?” He asked her, stopping in front of her.  
_ _

__“Were you on a date?”  
_ _

__He swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I.. well as a matter of fact.. yes, I was.”  
_ _

__“Fuck.” She said, surprising him. “Jaime, I’m so sorry, you should have told me before, I shouldn’t have called you in the first place.. Gods, I feel so stupid right now.”  
_ _

__Not the reaction he was expecting. “Stop it now, it’s ok.. actually, it’s more than ok, I was probably starting to make something up to end it early anyway...”  
_ _

__“You could have had sex right now, Jaime.”  
_ _

__He laughed, enjoying her bluntness. “Why, wench, it’s your smart way to turn me down?”  
_ _

__“I thought you were too drunk for...” She replied.  
_ _

__He frowned in confusion. “For what? Gods..are you saying me that you were thinking about it, wench?”  
_ _

__“That’s not what.. ok, forget it.” She blushed.  
_ _

__“It’s so beautiful messing with your head.”  
_ _

__She punched him lightly on his arm, but then encircled it again. “Look, there’s a carnival!”  
_ _

__“Really? How old are you?”  
_ _

__“Too little for you.. come on, it will be fun!”  
_ _

__She dragged him through the fair and she didn’t know if it was the explosion of colors, the sweet smell of cotton candy, the excitement of running kids, or simply the fact that her arm was still around him, but she felt happy;  
_ _

__happiness had never been foregone for Brienne, but something to fight for, always.  
_ _

__She felt happy and safe.  
_ _

__“Look, the target shooting, let’s go!” She said a little too loudly.  
_ _

__Jaime smiled, enjoying her new enthusiasm, finding a new side of her that could easily become addicting.  
_ _

__“It’s a little unfair, how am I suppose to compete with a cop?” He complained childishly.  
_ _

__“Come on, your turn.”  
_ _

__Jaime took the fake gun and, after an exaggerated preparation that consisted in loosening his shoulders’ muscles, pointed at the target and started shooting. He felt Brienne laughing behind him. “Ok, it’s clearly the wine, besides, your laughter is very distracting and irritating, wench.”  
_ _

__“You know, the object of the game is to actually hit the smallest circle, Jaime, the white space around the biggest one is not contemplated.”  
_ _

__“Funny, wench. Should I remember you that I’ve drunk almost a bottle of wine?”  
_ _

__She laughed in response when Jaime hit the wall next to the target and he smiled apologetically to the target shooting guy; when he handed them the result of Jaime’s turn, Brienne couldn’t hold back the laughter again. Jaime looked at the paper, annoyed.  
_ _

__“Well, at least, you’ve hit the board three times.. it’s not bad for, how many? Oh yes, for a ten years old guy.”  
_ _

__He smiled a predatory smile toward her. “Let me see what are you able to do, wench and, for the record, I’m deeply offended by your behavior and I think I deserve an apologize later, a reward or something.”  
_ _

__Brienne snorted, taking the gun from him and waiting for the boy to hang a new target; then she started shooting, a secret smile on her face.  
_ _

__He looked, confused, at the target.  
_ _

__“Do you realize that are you doing worse than me?” Jaime said, following her movements.  
_ _

__She kept shooting in a perfect calm, without betraying her real intent.  
_ _

__“You know, the object of the game is to actually hit the smallest circle, Brienne.” He said, mimicking her voice and her previous words.  
_ _

__“Shut the fuck up.” She murmured, making him chuckle. When the boy handed her the result, she took it hesitantly and raised it, almost shyly, toward Jaime, turning it.  
_ _

__He looked at it and the words seemed stuck in his throat. She had shaped a perfect heart with her gunshots. He took the paper and contemplated it, a small smile on his face.  
_ _

__“For me?” He asked her then softly. She nodded, lowering her eyes and he had to fight the urge to kiss her senselessly. “Who knew my wench was a softie?”  
_ _

__“It’s a silly thing.” She said, gesticulating in front of her.  
_ _

__“It’s not.” He told her serious. He closed the space between them and kissed her forehead. “Are you giving me your heart, Brienne?” He asked her, his lips caressing her skin. She didn’t reply, playing with one of the button of his shirt. He sensed her struggle and decided to spare her the answer. “Thank you.” He whispered in her ear instead.  
_ _

__She looked at him and then smiled; Jaime folded the paper and put it in his jeans pocket. “Let’s go to..”  
_ _

__“No, wait.” She interrupted him. “I want to do another round.” Jaime looked at her perplexed, murmuring something like ‘such a cop you are’ and she took the gun, restarting again.  
_ _

__She hit the smallest circle with all her shots, gaining incredible looks both from Jaime and the boy.  
_ _

__“Ok, what have I won?” She asked smugly.  
_ _

__“Actually, with this result, you can chose anything you want.” The boy told her shyly.  
_ _

__She read his name tag. “Thanks Podrick, we want that one, the biggest one.”  
_ _

__“Of course.” He said, climbing on a stepladder and handing her the biggest stuffed cat they had ever seen.  
_ _

__Jaime, amused, raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s for the kids.” She explained.  
_ _

__He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.  
_ _

__“Look, a hot dog cart! I’m starving.” She said and this time she took his hand in hers. They fingers interlaced immediately like it was the most natural thing to do. Because that pull that she felt around him was total, it embraced every contingency. It was mental, physical, whole. When he didn’t attract her with his words, she succumbed to his touch, when he didn’t touch her, she melted to his words. Then there were times in which he used them both, voice and fingers, whispers and caresses._ _

__Those times she found out the sensation of being in love.  
_ _

__She learned its meaning, its power, just waiting for the moment she would have been ready to totally yield to it.  
_ _

__“Hot dog with double mustard and pepperoni.” She said to the boy behind the cash desk.  
_ _

__Jaime looked at her. “What?” She asked him.  
_ _

__“Same for me.” He told the boy. “You know, it’s the first time I go out with a woman that eats for real.”  
_ _

__She laughed. “Just think about how many salads have you payed in all your life.”  
_ _

__“Gods, an empire of salads.”  
_ _

__“I don’t get how some women can really live like that.” she said to him.  
_ _

__“Well, it’s called sacrifice wench.. if you want a perfect body..”  
_ _

__“Are you saying that mine is not good enough?” She played him. “I work out three times at week.”  
_ _

__He pretended to look seriously at her, then approached her and his hand found her abdomen. He pressed it firmly.  
_ _

__She held her breath. “I’ve passed the exam, Doctor?” She asked him teasingly.  
_ _

__“Not sure.” He told her. “I think I need to check it later.. with less clothes on.”  
_ _

__She snorted. “In your dreams, Jaime.”  
_ _

__“My wildest? Oh yes, at least one, every night.”  
_ _

__“Shut up.” She said, handing him his hot dog and wondering if he was really joking. They found a bench and sat down, enjoying their meal. They ate in silence, but it was a special one, one that smelled of intimacy and complicity.  
_ _

__Sometimes it’s just a matter of circumstances; if you find the right one, it doesn’t matter if the context seems wrong or the moment inappropriate, you feel a pull, even just a second of total proximity with the person next to you and the need to give to this person the access for your soul is too strong to ignore. It was for this reason that she found herself struggling with the urge to confess him her story, to tell him the things he still didn’t know about her, to give her demons a face, a tale.  
_ _

__“I used to go to the carnival with my dad, in Tarth.” She said, out of the blue.  
_ _

__He smiled softly, knowing it wasn’t the time to interrupt her.  
_ _

__“We lived in this yellow house on the hill.” She said, resting her back against the bench. “My mom furnished it in a Provencal style.. antique white and lavender everywhere, I’ve never changed it, not even before leaving it. We were happy, my mother was an art teacher while my father a farmer; our garden was full of animals.. animals everywhere, but my favorites were the peacocks. Tarth is full of Peacocks. After my mom died, I’ve spent days and days painting them.. I loved their colors, I still do. She died for aneurysm and it hurt us even more because it was totally unexpected. After her death, I lived at my uncle’s house, it was next to mine. In that moment, I was too little to understand what was really happening.. my father started to drink and then he went in a clinic. Then, years later things seemed to improve for us, he came home, resumed his work and we came back to our house to live together. He took me to the carnival when it was in town.. one day he won a chick for me at the shooting target, but I kept complaining it wasn’t a peacock..I was a total brat.” She laughed and then she met his eyes. He caressed her cheek with a finger in an almost imperceptible gesture.  
_ _

__“What has happened then?”  
_ _

__She lowered her gaze. “He restarted drinking.. more than before. I’ve always thought that it had been worse for him.. I felt the absence since my mother’s death, he felt the loss. Loss is worst than absence, that’s what I’ve always believed..he had enjoyed and loved my mother’s presence and then he knew what he was missing. He stopped working, he stopped talking, he stopped living..I was alone. I started working in a pub in town after school, pretending to be 16 years old. I was fourteen.. I guess everyone knew about my situation and never said a word about it. My uncle tried to help, but he was old, he couldn’t do much. Then, one day, there was a storm, a pretty bad one.. Tarth is on an island, when there’s a storm, the whole city is stuck. I had just ended my shift in the pub and I was coming home..” She interrupted speaking and he took her hand, but she dismissed his touch.  
_ _

__“He wasn’t inside..I found him in the garage, half dead.. he had.. he had cut his wrists while I was at work. I tried to call the Emergency but all the lines were down. I took his hand in mine, it was still warm.. I tried to block his wounds but he had already lost too much blood at that point. Minutes later I could finally call the Emergency but it was too late. I felt his hand becoming cold, Jaime.. from warm to cold in a bunch of minutes. From that day I became obsessed with touching. I couldn’t stand it.. from anyone.. men, women..children..until you. The first time you’ve touched me, I felt the same warmth.. but it didn’t fade like it usually did. It persisted.” She was the one touching his hand now, interlacing their fingers together. He tightened the contact.  
_ _

__“Why now?” He said, looking at her.  
_ _

__She contemplated his question. “You told me days ago that I needed a psychologist and nothing more.. not a friend, not a man, just a psychologist. The fact is.. I’ve realized that I just need you, I really do.. it doesn’t matter in which form or role.. it’s you, Jaime.”  
_ _

__He raised their hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I’m here.” He said, looking at her.  
_ _

__She smiled, her chin trembled. “I’ve always thought I wasn’t enough for him.. he didn’t love me enough to fight for me, enough to try to live.” She said, her starting tears altering her voice. He took her in his arms, her head on his chest, his lips on her hair.  
_ _

__“Or maybe, you were too much.. and he couldn’t stand anymore the idea of disappointing you.” He said against her forehead. She raised her face toward him. “Thank you.”  
_ _

__He kissed her nose and the corner of her mouth. Then he pulled away staring at her; she closed the distance, brushing her lips against his for some seconds and he sighed against them. He cupped her head to keep her still and started to trace the contour of her mouth with his lips in the lightest touch. She held her breath waiting for a real kiss that didn’t come.  
_ _

__“Let’s go home.” He whispered in her ear.  
_ _

__She tried to hide her disappointment. “Wait, there’s another stop before leaving.” She replied._ _

____

* * *

“The Ferris wheel? Seriously, wench?” Jaime asked, a mix of amusement and exasperation.  


“Hurry up!” She said, already walking toward the entrance.  


“Brienne...wait. I have a little problem.” Jaime said, grabbing her arm. She looked suspiciously at him.  


“The fact is that.. I don’t cope very well with.. I mean, I have a thing with heights.”  


She chuckled, enjoying his embarrassment. “Really? The great Jaime Lannister is afraid of heights?”  


“I’m not really afraid.. it’s more..I mean, I don’t like it.”  


“You’re scared.. that’s a first.” She said. “You know, what an old man once told me?”  


“What?”  


“He told me that I had to exorcise my fears.”  


He raised an eyebrow, contemplating her answer. “Old man, really?”  


She laughed. “Quite old for me.”  


“But I bet he was incredibly handsome.”  


She curled her nose. “He’s a type.”  


He pretended to be deeply offended, she took his hand and they both sat in the cabin, the stuffed cat trapped next to them in a comical picture. The wheel started to swing.  


“Gods, I’m already regretting this.” When they reached the top, it stopped to give the visitors the possibility to admire the view. Jaime closed his eyes, swearing under his breath. “Wench, why this fucking thing isn’t moving?” He said, taking his head in his hands  


Brienne burst out laughing, but then she noticed the sweat running through his hairline and a pallor that had never belonged to his perfect cheekbones. She knelt in front of him, making their cabin swing a little bit. Jaime’s eyes snapped open in panic, but she immediately calmed him, taking his face in her hands. “Hey, it’s ok.. I’m here, breath with me.”  


He laughed hysterically due to the absurdity of the situation, “Who has taught you that?”  


“The same handsome old man.” She said, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs.  


He closed his eyes for a moment, humming and enjoying her touch, “I thought he was a type.”  


“A handsome type.” She said, gaining a smile in response. “Breath with me, Jaime.”  


He did, loving her commitment. He focused on her eyes, losing himself in their purity; sapphires with a circle of light amber around the pupils. Then he looked at her face, her chapped lips, the little but defined scar above the upper one, her nose, firm and stubborn like her..the light wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and her skin.. he loved her skin. It was porcelain kissed by the blushing moon.  


In the background the sky was almost purple, not dark yet.  


She seemed a painting, an imperfect one;  


she was so perfect in all her imperfections.  


There was a lightness in her attitude that he was experimenting for the first time. He couldn’t look away; mesmerizing, that’s what she was. He encircled her wrists, her hands still holding his face.  


“Jaime, are you ok?”  


“You’re beautiful.”  


The Ferris wheel started moving.  


* * *

He took her home, their steps finding their previous coordination. He had loved the way her eyes had darkened after his compliment, giving him the answer that her voice hadn’t been able to articulate.  


She wanted him;  


He wanted her more.  


They reached her condo and she looked nervously at him. “Do you want to..”  


“What, wench?” He asked, teasing her.  


She sighed in frustration, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and dragging him inside. They met Springsteen sprawled on the couch; Brienne put the stuffed cat next to him and he jumped away, scared.  


“It’s me or he’s a giant?”  


Brienne laughed. “Pets look like their owners.” She answered. “Do you want something to drink? We could watch something or talk or..”  


“Sleep.” He said, interrupting her. She frowned in response. “Let’s go to sleep.”  


“Are you sure you don’t want to..”  


“Let me hold you, tonight.” He said, interrupting her.  


Her answer seemed stuck in her throat, she nodded, unable to talk.  


They got ready for bed, She gave him some home clothes and a spare toothbrush. She changed in a pajama blouse and a pair of short, opting for a cute matching suit. Jaime stared at her legs the moment he saw her. “Really?” He groaned, looking at her, but she didn’t catch the meaning behind his words.  


Once they lay down, his right arm found immediately her body, pulling it flat against his, her back pressed against his sternum. Her hand rested on his one on her belly. He kissed her temple, whispering ‘sweet dreams’ in her ear and then abandoning his head against the pillow, her hair tickled his face.  


The sleep didn’t arrive; his mind engaged in how many different ways he could have seduced her, wondering what would have been her favorite. He raised himself on his elbow and looked around him, inspecting the room. He found some books and crosswords on her side table and a little blackboard hung on the wall with some phrases on it.  


_Color my life with the chaos of trouble. _  
__

__He smiled, finding her in those words.  
_ _

__He wondered where she hid her gun and handcuffs and a thrill of excitement hit him. Then something caught his gaze. On the little table next to her bed there was a vase; it wasn’t full of flowers, but of feathers instead.  
_ _

__Peacocks’ feathers.  
_ _

__He was mesmerized by their colors and he wanted to reach out to touch them, but restrained himself, scared of waking her. His head found the pillow again, but then he felt her moving against him. The sensation made him hard. “Are you awake?”  
_ _

__She mumbled something incoherent and she brushed his chin with her hair. “Are you awake, wench?”  
_ _

__“No.” She replied and he chuckled.  
_ _

__“Can I ask you something?” He asked and he felt her nodding against him.  
_ _

__She was warm and she smelled of cherry.  
_ _

__He kissed her hair.  
_ _

__“Why did you go out with him?”  
_ _

__She stiffened, waiting in silence for some seconds. “Because of you.” She said then.  
_ _

__He moved her on her back and looked down at her. “Why?”  
_ _

__She reciprocated his gaze.“I wanted to prove to you that a man could be interested in me..”  
_ _

__He frowned down at her. Then his fingers found the first button of her blouse and loosened it. “Interested in which way?” He asked her husky.  
_ _

__She held her breath when he loosened the second. “Interested in me, as a woman.”  
_ _

__He stopped his movements, looking at her. “You wanted him to make you feel like a woman, Brienne?” He whispered, the third button down.  
_ _

__“Jaime.” She whispered and he didn’t know if it sounded more like a prayer or a warning. He straddled her, resting on his elbows and covered her body.  
_ _

__He looked down at her, deeply.“Has he ever looked at you the same way I do?” He asked her, then he lowered his face and he blew lightly on the exposed skin between her half open blouse. A little moan escaped her mouth and he could see her covered nipples hardening under the cloth.  
_ _

__“Answer to me.” He said firmly.  
_ _

__“No.” She answered and he loosened the fourth one.  
_ _

__“How do you feel when I look at you, Brienne?” The fifth down.  
_ _

__She swallowed, looking away. “Good.” She said.  
_ _

__He chuckled but his laughter sounded incredibly dangerous. “Do you feel wanted? Do you feel sexy?” He loosened the sixth button and then the last one. The valley between her breast and her stomach totally exposed under his gaze.  
_ _

__He kissed her belly.  
_ _

__“I do.”  
_ _

__His fingers found the elastic of her short and she stiffened under him. “Do you still trust me, wench?” He asked, a mischievous smile on his face.  
_ _

__“Yes.” She almost breathed. He removed her short delicately, meeting her cotton blue pantie. He looked surprised at them. “I thought to find lace.. you seemed eager to impress him.”  
_ _

__“I would have never slept with him and you know it.”  
_ _

__“Are you saying me that you wear lace sometimes?”  
_ _

__“Yes.”  
_ _

__“Would you wear it for me?”  
_ _

__“I would.”  
_ _

__He smiled against her thigh.  
_ _

__“I remember you once told me that the only thing you searched in men was respect.. is that so or do you want something more?” She didn’t reply. He aligned his body with hers, then he lowered his face toward her, a breath between their lips, but, at the end, he shifted to the left side, finding her ear. “Have you ever been seduced, wench?” She shook her head and he kissed her lobe. “Would you like it?” She nodded this time.  
_ _

__He left her ear and his head followed the length of the exposed skin, starting from her neck, caressing her stomach and reaching her womb, stopping at the elastic of her pantie. He smelled her skin, his hair brushing lightly her body in the process.  
_ _

__“Are you wet for me, Brienne?” She didn’t reply, but her eyes were stuck on him. “Yes, you are, I can smell it.” His lips brushing her belly button without really touching it.  
_ _

__“Want to play a game?”  
_ _

__“What kind of game?”  
_ _

__“A game in which I’ll give you pleasure without really touching you.”  
_ _

__She looked at him confused and he just wanted to kiss away her uncertainty. He stretched his arm and found the little table near the bed. He took a peacock feather, the shortest, from the vase and she looked at him. He used it to tickle her face and she laughed softly in response. He smiled back, lightening the atmosphere, but then he immediately returned serious. He lay down next to her, resting on his side and then he started to caress her arm with the tip of the feather; he followed its length until he reached her shoulder, then the tip touched her neck, stopping at the valley between her breasts.  
_ _

__She sighed.  
_ _

__“Do you like it?” He asked her while he slipped the feather under her blouse to caress her nipple.  
_ _

__“Jaime.” She moaned. He caressed it another time and he saw her fingers grabbing the sheets under her. He reserved the same treatment to the other nipple, trying to ignore his own state of excitement.  
_ _

__He stopped his movements and she looked at him. “You still didn’t tell me if you like it.” He asked her seriously.  
_ _

__“I do.” She said and she didn’t leave his eyes, while the feather found her leg this time, starting from her ankle and following the length. When he reached her knee, she bent her leg instinctively, flattening it against the mattress, to give him access. His eyes were still bored in hers when he explored with the feather his inner thigh, making slow circles on her skin. He stopped then, missing her core and finding the other leg instead. She snorted in response.  
_ _

__“What is it, wench?” He asked her smugly. “What do you want?” She look down to make him understand where she wanted his alternative touch.  
_ _

__“Tell me with your voice.”  
_ _

__“I want you to touch me there.”  
_ _

__“There?” He asked her, pretending confusion. “Where, Brienne?” He asked her, while the tip of the feather brushed her core. She moaned and he realized he had never been harder in his life.  
_ _

__“Please don’t stop.” He was startled by the need in her voice. He lowered his face toward her, resting his forehead against hers. “Raise the elastic of your panties, Brienne.” She tucked her fingers under the elastic, doing what he was asking; he slipped the tip of the feather inside and started to move it delicately.  
_ _

__She grabbed his hair, panting against his lips. “More, Jaime.”  
_ _

__He was the one moaning due to her words.  
_ _

__“Please, use your fingers.” She almost prayed him.  
_ _

__“No.” He said, biting her lower lip. “Use yours.” She inserted her fingers in the panties but after a simple brush, her orgasm took her, making her moan against his neck.  
_ _

__She relaxed on the pillow, closing her eyes, and he kissed her eyelids in turn; then he resumed his position on the bed and he tucked her body beside him, trying not to make her feel his erection pressed on her back.  
_ _

__“Cat got your tongue?” He asked her.  
_ _

__She turned her body, facing him. “Why don’t you kiss me..why haven’t you touched me?”  
_ _

__“Because I want you too much.”  
_ _

__She frowned. “It doesn’t make sense.”  
_ _

__“Trust me, it does.” He said, moving away a lock from her forehead. “Besides, I’m still your psychologist, Brienne.”  
_ _

__“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”  
_ _

__“I can hold back.”  
_ _

__“There’s no need.”He looked interrogatively at her. “You’re fired, Jaime.”  
_ _

__He chuckled, amused. “Really?”  
_ _

__“Really.” She said firmly.  
_ _

__"What about your work?"_ _

__"You'll tell Catelyn that I'm ready to come back..I'm really ready, anyway."_ _

__“Ok.” He simply said.  
_ _

__“Ok? I thought it would have been harder.”  
_ _

__“You don’t understand, don’t you?”__  
He wasn’t ready to tell her he would have been able to obey to all her requests; he wasn’t ready to tell her he was in love with her, the risk of scaring her too strong to bear. “I would give you anything you want at this point, and I will, I promise you.”  


__“Anything?” She asked him.  
_ _

__“Anything.”  
_ _

__“Come home with me, then.”  
_ _

__“We’re already at home, wench.”  
_ _

__“No. Take me to Tarth.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAH.  
> I hope you're still with me, let me know if you liked this chapter. X


	9. Fairy Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so sorry for the delay, but in my defense, I was on holiday without connection! This is a filler chapter,I'm afraid, but I hope you'll like it anyway.

                     

She had never slept with someone, never until now;

she had never changed, not even for a second, her position during the night, afraid of ruining the perfection, afraid of weakening the sensation of his strong arm around her, busy to keep her in place, like she was a precious thing, someone to keep close and to never let go. 

She felt his breath against her neck, sometimes she could feel his lips on her skin too and when his sleep became restless, she felt his fingers dancing on her covered belly stopping just an inch form her breast, respectful. During the night their legs had interlaced in a perfect tangle, his leg hair tickling her calves. 

He was warm, he was real.

They hadn’t shared a lot of words once awakened, he had greeted, with slow kisses, the arc of her neck, following its length until he had found her ear, _Morning wench _, he had whispered to her and she had shivered beside him.__

____

They were doing breakfast in her tiny kitchen, in silence, between smiles.

“So..” Jaime said, interrupting the quiet. “When do you want to leave?”

“Now?” She asked tentatively.

He chuckled. “I need to anticipate some sessions if we are going to leave, wench. I need at least two days.”

“Yes, right.” She said, ashamed of her eagerness.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” She asked him.

“I was supposed to spend tomorrow afternoon with my nephews but if we are going to leave soon, I will be busy in the studio.”

“It doesn’t matter, we can wait..”

“Non sense, I’ll talk with my brother and see if he can postpone his appointment and..”

“They could stay here.” She suddenly said, interrupting him.

Jaime looked at her and she felt herself blushing under his stare. “I mean, they could finally meet Springsteen and spend the afternoon here.” Jaime kept staring at her, in silence.

“Or maybe it’s just a bad idea, I shouldn’t have..”

“It would be lovely, Brienne.” He said, but she could sense a strange emotion behind his words.

She smiled at him. “Springsteen, go wash yourself and chose something nice to wear, we have guests tomorrow!”

Jaime laughed and she followed his laughter. 

Once their breakfast was over, Jaime got ready to leave. “Tyrion will bring them here tomorrow around 3, is it ok for you?”

“Sounds perfect.” She said.

“I’ll take them once I’ll finish working, ok?”

She nodded and she saw him closing the space between them; She retreated, overwhelmed by his gaze, until her back found the door behind her. “Really?” He said, smiling. “Are you escaping me, wench? After last night?”

She tilted her head, blushing, to avoid his eyes but giving him the access to her neck. He caressed her neck with his lips. “Are you a shy lover, Brienne?” He asked her against her skin.

“I don’t know.” She mumbled.

“You don’t know?” He asked her amused and she shook her head. “You know what I do know?”

“What?”

He kissed her lobe and then whispered. “I know that you are lovely when you come.” He felt her stiffened under his lips. He looked at her, studying her expression. “Gods, will you ever stop blushing?” He asked her playfully, then cupped her cheek. “A shy blushing lover.. look what have I just got myself into..”

“Nobody obliged you.” She snapped at him.

He chuckled, stroking her cheek. “You seem not to understand, stubborn one.. shy, stubborn blushing lover.” He sighed, touching her forehead with his own. “What happened last night was just the beginning..just the beginning, sweetheart.” She bit her lower lip and he followed her gesture with his eyes. “See you later.”

He was about to pull away, when her hand found his hair, burying her fingers in it. She brushed her lips against his briefly.

He shuddered, his fingers tightening up her hip.

Then she found his ear. “I can play the same game, Jaime.” She said and he was the one stiffening. “Maybe I’m not as good as you, but I learn quickly.” He smiled seductively at her. “Have a nice day, Brienne.. think of me if you feel bored and lonely.”

She snorted in response.

She spent the day working out; she didn’t have a feminine body, but Jaime seemed to appreciate her tonic muscles, and more important, he wasn’t intimidated by it. He didn’t call her that night, he didn’t texted her either and she thought that, maybe, she had already started to deceive herself. It was easy to succumb to his whispered words, to his gaze that made her feel wanted like never before. She had told him that she trusted him, the problem was she wasn’t sure she could trust herself. He hadn’t promised her anything, he hadn’t made her love declarations, but her heart already beat in a different rhythm, her intentions already crumbled under his gaze. She was sure that he cared for her, but she realized, with a strange anguish, that this wasn’t what she needed from him. She had told him that she needed him, it didn’t matter in which kind of form, just him.

The truth was that, now, she needed him as a lover, nothing else. She had fallen in love with him with a facility and an intensity that were almost alarming.

That night she dreamed of him.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister was looking up at her from the door, his eyes emanated the same warmth of his brother, but not that mischief mixed with seduction that belonged only to Jaime. 

“Brieee” The kids shouted, running toward her.

“Hey you.” She said smiling affectionately. “Nice to meet you.” She said then, turning toward Tyrion.

“You know you’re the reason of my brother’s latest passion?” He asked seriously.

Brienne started blushing. “Passion?” She stammered out.

“Crosswords.” Tyrion said and she released the breath she was holding, smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Brienne and thanks for the help.”

“It’s a pleasure.” She said shyly, waiting for him to greet the kids and go.

He looked, awkwardly, around. “May I have a word?” He asked her in the end. She nodded surprised and directed him to the kitchen. He looked at her deeply. “Ok, what’s happening between you two?”

She was surprised by his question.“Nothing..we’re..we’re just friends.”

He raised an eyebrow at her in exasperation.

“Maybe a little bit more than friends.” She said, lowering her eyes.

“I’ve never seen my brother like this, Brienne..” He said seriously.

She ignored the fact that her heart was beating loudly in her chest. “Like this, how?”

Tyrion sighed. “There’s been only a woman in his life, Brienne.. you know that, don’t you?”

She looked at him confused. “We haven’t talked about his previous love stories..”

“Our sister. He lived for Cersei.” He explained.

“I didn’t know they were that close..”

“Hasn’t he talked to you about her?”

She felt a stupid. She had never asked him anything during the past days. She had been presumptuous enough to always be the focus point of every conversation. “I’m usually the one talking..”

“I see.” He said. “Anyway, I’m worried about him.. when he put his heart and soul into something..or someone, things don’t usually end very well..”

“What are you trying to say?” She couldn’t catch the meaning behind his words.

“I’m worried that you’re not at the same page, Brienne.. I’m worried that he will end up hurt in the end and since he doesn’t cope with pain very well..I’m worried that..”

“I love him, Tyrion.” She interrupted him. “I fell in love with him, like a stupid..so yes, we’re clearly not at the same page..”

He stared at her in silence. “You don’t know about his feelings..”

“Oh come on, I’m a millionth of things, but I’m not naive.. He cares for me, he feels compassion toward me..he’s probably even weirdly attracted by me because I’m different somehow, but.. he sees me as something to fix.. a broken puzzle. I’m just a challenge to him, nothing more. Once he will believe that I’m fixed, it will be over.”

“You can’t be sure..”

“I am.”

“Brieee, Springsteen has talked.” They heard Tommen shouting from the living room. They both burst out laughing, but her smiles were bittersweet.

“I should go to see them, it has been a pleasure, Tyrion.”

“Likewise.” Tyrion said. “Call me if you need anything, ok? Kids, behave!” 

“Yes, uncle Tyrion!” They shouted in sync. 

Brienne found the kids sprawled on the rug of her living room, busy petting Springsteen and arguing about his weight. She sat next to them and Myrcella immediately occupied the space between her crossed legs.

“Brienne, are you uncle Jaime’s princess?” She asked her, looking seriously in her eyes.

“No, Myrce..I’m his friend, why are you asking?” _Why everybody is asking? ___

__

__She looked around suspiciously. “Because I think that.. uncle Jaime has a princess now!” She whispered._ _

__

__Brienne held her breath. “That’s great, Myrce.. has he told you that?” She asked nonchalantly._ _

__

__“Nah.. but he told me a story yesterday night because I couldn’t sleep.. a story of a princess he knows, do you want to hear the story?” She asked hopeful._ _

__

__Brienne smiled. “I’d love to.”_ _

__

__Myrce took a breath in preparation and started talking solemnly. “Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a castle.. in a yellow castle on the hill with a lot of sea around.. and she had a horse, his name was Bruce.. she had a lot of peacocks too..as guards! They protected the castle and she was very happy.”_ _

__

__Brienne frowned, recognizing something familiar. “What happened then?”_ _

__

__“There was a storm, like a big hurricane that took away all her family and friends and she was really sad then..really, really sad. She spent the days just looking at the sea and you know what happened to her??”_ _

__

__She shook her head, trying to hide her emotions._ _

__

__“Her eyes became the same color of the sea because she kept looking at it. They called her Sapphire.”_ _

__

__“Why she kept looking at it?”_ _

__

__“Because she was waiting for a ship, she wanted to escape! The people in the island weren’t her friends, they were nasty.. they said she was weird because her house was full of peacocks and she had the sea in her eyes.. but the truth was that she was just magic.”_ _

__

__Brienne smiled sadly. “Did the ship arrive at the end?”_ _

__

__“YES.. she was ready to leave the castle but she made a magic before leaving and Bruce became a cat, she couldn’t bring a horse on her ship and she took one feather for every peacock guard with her because she had to leave them and she wanted a keepsake.”_ _

__

__Brienne tried to ignore the emotion she was feeling inside.“And now?”_ _

__

__“Now the princess is searching for her prince.” Myrce explained like it was the most logical conclusion._ _

__

__Brienne looked at her and fixed a falling curl on her forehead. “It’s a beautiful story, Myrce.”_ _

__

__“She’s Sapphire, the peacocks’ princess! Uncle Jaime has promised me he will buy me her Barbie!”_ _

__

__Brienne now laughed, amused and then looked at Tommen. “Tommy, stop riding Springsteen!”_ _

__

__“But maybe he was a horse too once.” Tommen explained to her._ _

__

__“Well, he’s clearly a cat now!”_ _

__

__“But he’s so big!”_ _

__

__He had a point there._ _

__

__“Myrce, have you told Brie about the heart?”_ _

__

__Myrcella sighed in exasperation. “Shh! It’s a secret, idiot!”_ _

__

__“You’ve called me idiot, again!”_ _

__

__Brienne followed their exchange. “What heart?” She asked them curious._ _

__

__“I’ve found a paper with a heart on uncle Jaime’s side table.” Myrce whispered._ _

__

__Brienne’s heart made a strange dance. “Where did he take it?”_ _

__

__“He told me that a princess gave it to him.”_ _

__

__Brienne smiled. “Maybe it’s the same princess of your story, Myrce.. the peacocks’ princess.”_ _

__

__“Oh my Gods, Sapphire.”_ _

__

__Brienne laughed, enjoying her enthusiasm._ _

__

__They spent the rest of the afternoon organizing Springsteen’s birthday, even if it wasn’t, singing the songs they had learned at the nursery school and watching cartoons. When the doorbell rang, she felt a strange but pleasant nervousness that had never belonged to her._ _

__

__Brienne opened the door and found him in front of her. She tried to ignore the incredible urge to run in his arms, she tried to ignore that a simple smile coming from him made her shiver, helplessly._ _

__

__Then he stopped, looking at her from head to toes in confusion. “Do you realize that you’re covered in flour, wench?”_ _

__

__“We’re making pizza.” She explained apologetically._ _

__

__Jaime smiled again. “It’s an invitation?”_ _

__

__“Just if you want it.” She replied shyly._ _

__

__He closed the space between them and interlaced briefly her fingers with his own. “I’d like more to kiss away every gram of flour from your body, wench.. but I won’t complain either.” He said in her ear._ _

__

__“Uncle Jaimeeee!” Myrce arrived like a fury and Jaime interrupted abruptly their contact. He greeted her nephew, raising her from the floor and picking her in his arms. “Hi, little princess, I've missed you.” He said, hugging her._ _

__

__“I've missed you too!”_ _

__

__“Did you have fun with Brienne?” He asked Myrce, but looking at Brienne instead._ _

__

__“YESS. We’re making pizza now!” She shouted._ _

__

__Jaime laughed and kissed her twice on the cheek. “Your beard stings.” Myrce said, chuckling._ _

__

__“Oh, really?” He said, brushing his beard against her cheek and making her laughing breathlessly._ _

__

__Brienne looked at them smiling, mesmerized._ _

__

__“Brie, can I give Springsteen the yeast to eat?” They heard Tommen from the kitchen._ _

__

__“Oh Gods, Tommen, no!” She said, running in the other room._ _

__

__“But he would become even bigger!”_ _

__

__Jaime followed her, laughing, with Myrce still in his arms. “Wow, there was a war in here or something?” He asked, looking at the kitchen._ _

__

__“It’s Springsteen’s fault.” Tommen said seriously._ _

__

__“Hi to you, cowboy!”_ _

__

__“Sorry uncle, I’m busy.” Tommy said dramatically. “Besides, cowboys ride horses, I ride Springsteen.. I’m more like a cat-boy.. like a..”_ _

__

__“Uncle Jaime, I told Brie the story of Sapphire, the peacocks’ princess.” Myrce interrupted him, gaining an homicidal look from his brother._ _

__

__Jaime stiffened, looking at Brienne. “Of course, you did.”_ _

__

__Brienne smiled, enjoying his shyness for once. “It’s a beautiful story, Jaime.” Brienne said, looking at him._ _

__

__“A beautiful story about a beautiful princess.” He replied, not leaving her eyes. They stared at each other for some seconds, until Tommen pulled Brienne’s sleeve. “Brie, you promised me I could put the sauce.”_ _

__

__She came back to the reality. “Of course, Tommy, come here.”_ _

__

* * *

____

__

After dinner the kids occupied the couch, enjoying some cartoons; there was something in the air that resembled, dangerously, habit, but she dismissed the thought away. Jaime helped her cleaning the kitchen covered in flour while she washed the dishes.

Minutes later she felt his presence behind her back and she wondered if she would have been able to recognize his warmth even surrounded by ice, in the dark or blindfolded; his arms encircled her body from behind while he kissed the spot between her shoulder blades. She felt goosebumps on her skin and she tilted her head to the right, responding to the familiar urge of giving him more access. He took the invitation, kissing her neck.

“Let me do the dishes.” He said against her skin and she realized how much she had become addicted to that sensation.

“Nah, you’re the guest.”

“Interesting.. this means that I can do whatever I want?” He whispered in her ear.

She smiled, enjoying his flirting. “Almost.” She barely said, his tongue licking a residue of flour there.

“Gods, even the flour tastes sweet on you, let me try again.” He said, taking her lobe between his teeth.

“Jaime..”

“Why so tense, wench?” One of his arm changed position and found her shoulder, instead. He started to massage it while his left hand sneaked under her t-shirt, caressing her stomach. She sighed, leaning against him.

“What?” He asked her innocently.

“You’re distracting.” She replied, but there wasn’t annoyance in her voice.

“You don’t want me to help.”

She laughed, “help me.”

He interrupted the contact, sliding his hands down her arms until he found her hands covered in water and dish washing liquid. They started to play with their fingers, the dishes totally forgotten. Their fingertips kissed like it had become their personal way of touching.

“It’s frightening.. a little bit.” She whispered, transferring some bubbles on his skin.

“What is it?”

She paused, carefully choosing her words. “It’s frightening how much I’ve started to.. to crave this, like it was a necessity.”

“You’ve been avoiding touch for years, it’s normal, Brienne.” He said.

“I’m not talking about touching in general, Jaime.” She said, interlacing her fingers. “I’m talking about touching you.. about being touched by you.”

He didn’t answer and she wondered if she had exposed herself too much.

“I know.” He said at the end.

She shifted on her side to look interrogatively at him.

“It’s frightening.” He kissed her temple and left her puzzled, drying his hands in the dish cloth.

Once finished with the dishes, she found him on the couch next to the kids, both already asleep. She took the other side, leaving the two between them. Jaime was zapping until he stopped on a talk show; a beautiful actress appeared on the screen and Brienne immediately recognized her. She was in her favorite TV show.

“She’s so pretty.” She said, looking at the screen. Jaime smirked and she glanced at him. “What?”

“I know her.” He said.

“Quantify “know her”?”

Jaime chuckled. “I’ve dated her..for a month more or less.”

“Of course.” She mumbled to herself.

“Beautiful woman, good laid..but moring to quote my nephew.”

She didn’t laugh this time and went silent. She stared at the screen, contemplating the woman in front of her. She was stunning, perfect in every detail; she looked at her hands while she was gesticulating.. they were tapered, nails painted in deep red, they seemed soft hands too. That was what men liked in women, she thought. Brienne immediately looked at her own, they were big, calloused to due her using of the gun. Her nails were messy, they had never seen a manicure in her whole life. The actress passed a hand in her beautiful dark hair and Brienne touched her pale locks absently.

She felt naive, she felt wrong, she felt hopeless.

She glanced at him, noticing that he was already staring at her in a way that she couldn’t quite catch.

“You know, I could get used to this.” He said sweetly, pointing at the kids between them.

Suddenly she felt angry. “You shouldn’t.” She said, leaving the couch. 

She sheltered herself in the kitchen, she was breathing heavily, grabbing the table’s edge tightly when she sensed his presence.

“Ok, what was that?” He asked, entering in the kitchen.

“Don’t get used..it’s silly, besides, it’s going to end up soon.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are on two parallel universe, Jaime.. stop pretending.”

“Turn around.” He said, but she ignored him. “Brienne, turn around.” He said more firmly.

She turned, looking at him. He started closing the space between them but she interrupted him with her hand. “Don’t.” She said.

“Gods, I can’t believe how scared you are..”

“I’m not scared, I’m just trying to be realistic.”

“Realistic?” He snapped at her. “Then, look at me in the eyes and tell me this is not real.”

She stared at him, her eyes glassy. “Remember what you told me the first time we met?” She asked him instead.

“I’ve said a lot of things.”

“You told me that I was a good challenge for you.”

He looked confused at her. “So?”

“That’s what I am, Jaime.. a challenge, a broken toy to fix..once you’ll succeed, the fun will be over, you will get tired of me and I’ll be another boring woman of your collection.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“You’ve been presumptuous enough to believe that I was falling into this, but I’m not. You care about me, I give you that..you feel compassion toward me, you want to save me.. you’re even attracted because I’m somehow different but the truth is that.. I don’t want this, I don’t need this.. and maybe I just don’t need you anymore, maybe it’s over, maybe I’m fixed.”

He stared at her in disbelief and this time he closed the space between them. “You’re wrong. You are the one presumptuous enough to decide my feelings toward you, you know nothing.. Gods, you don’t even know me, basically.”

“That’s the point, I don’t know you.”

“You haven’t done a thing to find out more about me.” He said angrily.

“Maybe I don’t care.” 

He looked deeply at her, and she lowered her eyes, not standing his gaze. “I hope you’ll have a nice stay in Tarth.” He said at the end.

Then he picked up the kids and he was out of her house.

* * *

She had never been in love before and she was surprised to find out how much it hurt. The second he was out of her apartment, her knees bent without warning and she found herself on her kitchen’s floor, covered in tears. “Maybe I don’t care.” She had told him while the only thing that she wanted was to know every turn and every foolishness of his life. She had always thought to belong to him somehow, but then again, why someone so plain, ungainly could belong to someone carved in perfection?

The truth was he had always made her feel like she was part of that perfection, she was just too scared to believe him.

The day after, she left for Tarth; the trip on the ferryboat was hard, the sea restless, perfectly mimicking her internal struggling. She wanted to be with him, to feel his voice dancing on her skin and telling her all the things she didn’t know about him, she wanted his teasing, made by half kisses and allusive touches, she wanted his burning gaze on her body, but her pride made her motionless.

Most of all, she wanted to be brave enough to apologize. 

When she arrived on the island, she booked a room in a hotel; she could pretend to be fixed, but the truth was she wasn’t ready to face her childhood house, not alone, at least. She was on the bed trying to find a sleep that didn’t come when she received a call.

“Brienne?”

She was surprised to hear her voice. “Hey Catelyn, what’s up?”

“Hi to you, I’ve called to congratulate you!”

She was disorientated. “Congratulate me?”

Catelyn laughed. “Welcome back to work, we’ve missed you Agent Tarth!”

“Wait.. really? I thought I had to end my sessions with Jaime before.”

“Jaime?” Catelyn asked surprised.

“I mean, with Doctor Lannister.”

“Oh, but you have, the report has just arrived, he sent me an email five minutes ago.”

“He?”

“Jaime Lannister, Brienne.. He declared you ready to resume your work.. He seems positively enthusiast about your response and he spoke highly about you..”

Brienne was speechless.

“I have to say, I’m a little bit surprised, he had called me two weeks ago, telling me that it wasn’t working between you, that he couldn’t be your psychologist anymore..but I’m glad you’ve been able to find a meeting point.”

“He called you two weeks ago?”

“He called me at midnight, almost..he was really upset, maybe you two had just had a bad fight..”

_Or maybe not._

__

__“Catelyn, I’m in Tarth right now, can I resume work starting from next week.”_ _

__

__“Of course, Brienne.. I’m happy you’re coming back, so happy.”_ _

__

__“Me too, Catelyn, thank you.”_ _

__

__When she hung up, Brienne contemplated her boss’s words; She was really happy to come back to work but Jaime’s behavior had left her confused. Why was he helping her after their last encounter? Why had he tried to sabotage their sessions? A lot of things ran through her mind and she could easily pretend that those were the only reasons that made her take her phone and dial his number._ _

__

__He answered after the first ring._ _

__

__None of them spoke, both in silence, trying to intercept the other’s hesitation. Then she started talking._ _

__

__“I can’t sleep.”_ _

__

__He still didn’t answer._ _

__

__“Could you tell me a story?” She asked him; she stayed in silence, waiting for his answer. She could feel his breath through the phone, like it was tickling her ear. She gripped the phone tightly to prolong the sensation._ _

__

__“What story do you want?” He asked her then with a hint of sweetness that he hadn’t been able to muffle._ _

__

__“Yours.” She immediately said._ _

__

__He sighed, “I thought you weren’t interested.”_ _

__

__“I lied.”_ _

__

__“I know.”_ _

__

__She smiled in the phone, enjoying his smugness._ _

__

__“Lay down.” He said and she shivered, finding a sensual innuendo behind his words. “Now put me on speaker and relax.”_ _

__

__“No.” She said._ _

__

__“No?”_ _

__

__“No speakerphone, I want to feel you close.”_ _

__

__He made a strange sound in response. “Ready?”_ _

__

__“Yes.”_ _

__

__“Once upon a time there was a blonde kid that lived in a big precious house.. he didn’t have a lot of friends, the other kids didn’t like him, because he was arrogant, sharp and a little bit spoiled too. At least that was what they thought. What they didn’t know though, was that he simply lived for his family because it was the only thing that mattered to him. He reserved his smiles and hugs to his mom only, his fragility and admiration to his dad..he lived to defend his little brother and came to blows with everyone that dared to offend him and then..then there was his twin sister.”_ _

__

__He stopped talking and Brienne tried to encourage him. “Go on, Jaime.”_ _

__

__“His mom died when he was ten and his heart started to crumble. He realized that he didn’t want another woman in his life except his sister. Cersei was a younger version of his mom, she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen and he wanted to protect her from every pain the world. They grew up together, inseparable..like there was an invisible wire that kept them connected everywhere..until one day, the day of their eighteenth birthday, they.. Gods, I thought it would have been easier..”_ _

__

__“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want it..”_ _

__

__“No please, I need to do it.” He said, taking a breath, “That night they spent their birthday alone in the sweet company of a bottle of vodka and.. they ended up sleeping together. Well, when I say sleeping, I mean actually having sex together.”_ _

__

__Brienne stayed in silence, shocked by his words._ _

__

__“Please say something.” He asked her and she could discern the desperate need in his voice._ _

__

__“I'm not judging you, Jaime. I’m just glad you’re telling me.”_ _

__

__“It happened just once, I swear to you, Brienne..just once.”_ _

__

__“I believe you.”_ _

__

__He released the breath that he was holding. “When she died, another piece of his heart went with her. He wasn’t interested in anything anymore, he just used his job to hide his demons, filling his mind with his patients’ ones in exchange. His little brother kept kicking his ass and tried to convince him to start to live again..he dated a lot of women, trying to find his princess, but no one took what was left of his heart away. Maybe he just didn’t care..that until..”_ _

__

__“Until?” She asked him and he laughed at her curiosity._ _

__

__“Until he met the tallest, most stubborn woman in the world, a princess disguised as cop, imagine that, but with a pair of illegal eyes that soaked immediately into his soul.”_ _

__

__“What happened with her?”She asked, trying to hide the trembling in her voice._ _

__

__“You’re supposed to fall asleep, wench, not to make questions.” He said teasingly._ _

__

__“I like your story.”_ _

__

__“Mmm.. what happened with her? He told her she was a good challenge the first time they met.. but, now.. now she has simply become his new reason of living.”_ _

__

__“Jaime..”_ _

__

__“Let me finish this Brienne, I’m not good at this, I’ve failed every relationship I’ve ever had before, but I know one thing.. This is different, you are different..I’ve never felt anything remotely similar to this before, never for another woman, I need you to trust me on this.. give me a chance.. just tell me that--”_ _

__

__“Come here.”_ _

__

__“What?”_ _

__

__“Jaime, come here, book a plane or something..I want..”_ _

__

__“What do you want, Brienne?”_ _

__

__“You.” She said. “I want to make love with you.”_ _

__

__He stayed in silence, his breath accelerated and eventually replied, “I've bought a plane ticket for tomorrow five minutes before your call.”_ _

__

__“You could have bought one for tonight.”_ _

__

__He chuckled. “Why wench, you’re really that eager? Do you want me to start whispering sexy things in your ear? Do you want to know how I’ll make love to you the first time.. Gods, think about how many times I’ll make you come.. licking off your release from you, your skin..”_ _

__

__“I hate you.” She said, hiding a shiver._ _

__

__“I’m wondering how do you taste like.. I can feel it on the tip of my tongue..”_ _

__

__“I seriously hate you!”_ _

__

__He laughed. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.. time to make you dream.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should have ended with Jaime leaving her house, but then my soft heart has prevailed. Next chapter THINGS will finally happen; I just wanted Brienne to discover more about Jaime before the last step.  
> We've almost reached the end of this story, I hope you'll still interested in it!  
> Comments make me happy. XX


	10. Sapphire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still following this story.  
> It took me more than I was expecting, I'm so sorry but, at least, it's a long chapter (for this reason, I apologize in advance for any mistake.)  
> If you are searching for angst, you won't find it here.  
> It's shameless fluff and..something else. (Mind the rating.)

                                                        

_I want to make love to you. _Her words kept turning in his mind like a silent promise that made him more addicted after every passing breath. He had thought about making love with her more than once and every time, there was something different; sweetness when, in his wandering mind, he had touched her in whispers, thinking about all the sorrow she had already suffered in her life, that he wanted to turn in happiness, thinking about her new, but still unsteady, need of being touched. He would have penetrated her slowly, carefully, monitoring every sign of fear, every moan of discomfort, showing her how really precious she was.__

__

__Passion, when her words had made him angry, when she had lied in his face, pretending not to care about him, pretending that she didn’t know how much he had already fallen for her. He had come home that night, wondering how would have been to push her back against the wall, rip her clothes off and showing her just how much, even her delirious words, had turned him on, how much he would have silenced that lying mouth with fierce kisses and bites on her skin. Then, when the desire would have clouded the last bit of decency, he would have put his tongue between her legs, because he knew that no one had never done it before, and he needed to be the first and the last knowing her taste, showing her just how really presumptuous he was._ _

__

__But now, after their call, there was something different, there was confidence, clarity, there was freedom._ _

__

__That moring he threw some random clothes in his suitcase, then he took a long shower and was about to shave himself when the memory of her intake of breath every time his beard had brushed her skin made him stop and change mind. He approached his desk in search for his passport and, at the same time, dialed his brother’s number._ _

__

__“Jaime?”_ _

__

__“Little brother, I’m calling to say hi, I’m leaving for the weekend.”_ _

__

__Tyrion stayed in silence, contemplating his words. “I thought you canceled it.”_ _

__

__“Yes, that was before last night’s call.” He said, rummaging in his paper._ _

__

__“Jaime..” Tyrion warned him._ _

__

__“Tyrion..”_ _

__

__“You need to be careful with her.. you have this strange way of..”_ _

__

__“I love her, Tyrion.”_ _

__

__“Here we go again.” He sighed._ _

__

__“What?” Jaime asked, pausing._ _

__

__“Nothing, look..think carefully about what are you doing..and try to..”_ _

__

__But Jaime wasn’t listening to him anymore. He found his passport and smiled triumphantly, then, fixing the papers on his desk, he glanced at the folder containing her files and a wave of tenderness hit him. He opened it, watching her pic; it was in black and white and it didn’t really give justice to her astonishing eyes. He was about to close it when something caught his eyes._ _

__

__“Tyrion, what’s the date today?” He asked him, interrupting his rambling._ _

__

__“Were you listening to me?”_ _

__

__“No. What’s the date?”_ _

__

__“13th”_ _

__

__“Fuck.”_ _

__

__“What is it?”_ _

__

__“Do you know a good jewelry store near the airport?”_ _

__

__“Jaime, for Gods sake..”_ _

__

* * *

____

Forty minutes later he was entering in the jewelry, pretending not to feel a strange and unjustified nervousness inside.

“Jaime fookin’ Lannister.” A man greeted him.

Jaime smiled, approaching the man. “Bronn.”

Bronn was an old college mate; they had shared a dusty room and the desperate need of finding a purpose in life. Jaime had opted to become psychologist, needing a way to escape his own delirious mind, Bronn, who had always dreamed of making a family and living in richness, had left the studies to take over his father in law’s jewelry.

“You cunt, what are you doing here?”

“Always a pleasure, indeed.” He said, laughing. “I need to make a gift.”

He snorted.“Aunt Jenna?”

“Nice one.. no! Actually, it’s for a woman.”

“Last time I saw Aunt Jenna, despite the fact that she beat me to death with a wooden spoon, she was still a woman.”

“Come on, you know what I mean..”

“I can’t fookin’ believe it, what happened to you? A woman? An actual woman in the flesh or an inflatable doll?”

“I almost forgot how funny you are” He answered, amused.

“Girlfriend?” Bronn asked him seriously.

“No.. I mean kind of..” He said, imagining Brienne’s face if she had witnessed to that conversation.

“Must be someone special..about fookin’ time, you’ve always been slow anyway..”

“She is.” He said, ignoring the second part. “Anyway, move your ass and help me, I need to be at the airport in thirty minutes.” 

“What about earrings?” Bronn asked him.

“Nah, she doesn’t have pierced ears..”

“What does she like? Necklaces, bracelets?”

He sighed, thinking about the wench. “She’s not really into jewels, to be honest.”

Bronn looked at him perplexed. “Are you sure she’s a woman?”

“She’s a cop, she’s particular..there’s no woman like her.”

“I see..sex in handcuffs? Nice shot, Lannister.”

“Shut up..we still haven’t..I mean, it’s not your damn business, anyway.”

“Wait, wait.. let me get this straight, you’re buying an expensive jewel for a woman you still have to fuck?”

Jaime shrugged in response.

“You’re so doomed, my friend.”

Jaime was about to renounce when something tickled his mind. “What about sapphires?”

Bronn seemed to have seen a ghost. “Sapphires? No offense, the lady doesn’t wear jewels and you’re going to buy her fooking sapphires?”

Jaime tried to hide his annoyance. “I want sapphires.”

“This is worst than I had imagined.” Bronn said in desperation, then, he opened a drawer and showed him different pieces, but Jaime already had one thing in his mind.

“Any ring?”

“Oh Gods, have you hit your head or what? Are you going to propose?”

Jaime laughed at his shocked face. “Nah, the woman would probably beat me if I’d propose to her now.. but.. I already know that she’s the woman of my life anyway, I think she deserves it..Gods, she deserves the world..and we have a little story about sapphires..” He said, smiling to himself.

Bronn looked at him like he had grown another head. “You’ve fallen pretty bad, have you?”

“Gods, yes.” He said and they burst out laughing. 

“I think I have something for you, but remember to thank me when she’ll handcuff you to her bed.”

* * *

They agreed to meet in front of “The Evenstar” the best restaurant in Tarth; the flight wasn’t long and he would have landed just in time for dinner. Once arrived, he took a quick shower in the hotel room that he had booked the day before, not daring to ask her to guest him in her house, besides, if he knew her well enough, he was pretty sure that she had chosen an hotel too, still not ready to sleep in her childhood house. He wore khaki pants and a white shirt and while he was fastening it, he couldn’t stop thinking about how would have been the sensation of her trembling fingers loosening the buttons.

His hotel was near the restaurant, so he decided to reach it walking, asking an old local couple, the right direction. He breathed in the air, enjoying the sea breeze and the faint smell of pomegranates, the island seemed full of them. He recognized, in the distance, the sign of the restaurant, but he felt a funny feeling in his stomach when he saw her.

She wore a silken red dress, Lannister red, knee-length, knotted around her neck, her back was naked. Her hair was pulled up in a messy kind of way, because he could see some rebel locks framing her face. She was squirming uncomfortably, checking the crowd when she spotted him at the end. He reached her, trying to keep a serious expression on his face, until he stood in front of her, a few inches apart.

Suddenly the gravity of what they had shared the night before seemed to hit each other in turn.

They were naked one in front of the other, no more secrets, no more revelations, just them.

She was biting her lip in nervousness and he followed her movements silently. She was the one closing the distance, looking at him shyly until she hid her face in the crook of his neck, brushing his skin there in the process. 

He felt her eyelashes caressing his jaw. 

He sighed, cupping her head to keep her in place.

“I thought you had ditched me.” She said against his neck.

“Why?” He whispered in her ear.

“I’m sorry.” She replied him instead.

His other hand rested on her back and he started following her spine delicately with his nails; her arms encircled him, caressing his shoulder blades and she arched at his contact, raising her face from his shoulder and resting her forehead against his own. He took her face in his hands then, sinking in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He said, caressing her cheeks.

She lowered her eyes, interrupting their exchange and he smiled softly at her shyness. 

“It’s not too much?” She asked him tentatively, pushing his forehead playfully.

“Too much?”

“Too much, like a woman who’s trying hard to impress a man but then fails miserably?”

He pretended to think carefully about her question, but then, he saw her concerned expression and kissed her lightly on the lips in response. She seemed burned by his kiss, but after the initial surprise, she was about to reply to him, when his lips found the corner of her mouth instead, then her cheek, traveling until they reached her ear.

“Just too much for my own sanity.” He whispered and she buried her fingers in his hair in response, tilting his head back until she could touch his lips with her own.

She pressed the lightest of the kisses on his mouth.

“I chose red.”

“You did, didn't you?”

“Someone told me it would have looked good on me.”

He smiled. “Nah, someone told you that, in red, you would have knocked every man out.. that it would have looked incredible on you.”

“And someone is satisfied with the result?” She asked him shyly against his lips.

He laughed. “Someone would like to skip dinner right now, but someone wants also to do this right, wench..because you deserve it. Let me woo you a little.” He said, kissing her forehead; then he took her hand, leading her inside the restaurant.

The table was too little and perfect, their knees constantly brushing against each other during the dinner and he playfully trapped her calf between his legs at one point. His hand, sometimes, traveled unbidden under the cloth, finding her leg, caressing it lightly and enjoying her squirming and the blushing on her cheeks.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked him.

“Shoot.” He said, pouring out some wine in her glass.

“I’ve spoken to Catelyn last night.. she has told me about your report.”

He pretended to be clueless. “What about it?”

“We had just fought, Jaime..I’ve been a real bitch, why did you help me?”

He smiled tenderly at her. “You seem to forget that I’m a psychologist.”

She frowned, not following his words. “So?”

“I could read what was passing in that funny mind of yours, Brienne.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I haven’t believed to a single word coming out from your mouth that night.. you’ve freaked out, that’s it. You’ve freaked out because I had told you about that actress and suddenly you’ve felt a stupid and that fucking insecurity you have, has come back to haunt you.”

She lowered her eyes like she had been caught. He touched her hand to gain her attention.

“Brienne, I don’t fucking care if I have to spend the rest of my life trying to put, in that thick skull of yours, the fact that you’re beautiful to me.”

“Jaime..” She whispered, her eyes becoming glassy.

“I will tell you every fucking day and night, I don’t care.. just stop trying to keep me away.. it doesn’t work, you know why?”

She shook her head.

“Because I always come back.”

A tear escaped her and she interlaced their fingers together. “Promise me.” She whispered.

“What?”

“That you’ll always come back.”

He felt a pang in his stomach and was about to lean to kiss her when someone interrupted them.

“Can’t believe it.. Brienne?”

Jaime looked at the man in front of them and then noticed the discomfort in Brienne, busy wiping away the light tears.

“Hi, Ronnet.” She said, then she tried to remove her hand from his grasp but Jaime tightened the grip. “This is Ronnet, an old acquaintance.. Ronnet this is Jaime..he is..”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Jaime said and she looked at him in surprise.

“Boyfriend? I can’t believe it, I’ve always thought that you would have ended up like an old spinster surrounded by smelly cats..I mean, no offense, you weren’t exactly a flower in your youth, even if, I must admit, you clean up pretty well tonight.” He said, glancing appreciatively at her.

Jaime felt the urge to punch him in the face.

“Ok, what do you want?” Brienne asked him.

“Hey.. calm down, we’re friends, aren’t we? I’ve spotted you from my place, you’re very hard to miss and I’ve thought that it would have been nice to say hi and you know, since you’re back we could..”

“You could leave, right now.” Jaime suddenly said, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re ruining the dinner, could you just leave, please? Thank you very much.” He said, ignoring his response and focusing on Brienne instead. 

When he left them, she burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“Who’s that asshole?” He asked her.

She shifted uncomfortably on her chair. “The bet.. he is the one who started the bet.” She explained to him.

Jaime sighed. “Tell me a good reason not to punch him in the face right now.”

He saw she was trying to find a good answer when suddenly he found one himself.

He took her hand again, standing up. “Dance with me.” He said, pointing at the stand where several couple were dancing.

She followed him without hesitation, this time. 

He took her in his arms while she interlaced her own around his neck. “We’ve already danced once.” She whispered.

“Not in the way I wanted.” He said, pushing her flat against him. “Besides, I want to dance with you in front that asshole, it’s incredibly childish, I know.”

She chuckled and he loved the sound.

“That first time in my studio, I was so fucking nervous.” He admitted.

“You weren’t.” She said smiling.

He cupped her cheek tenderly. “You should always smile.. always.” She leaned into his touch. “I was nervous because, back then, I already wanted you.”

“That’s not true, you barely knew me.”

“Wench, I’ve fallen for your eyes the first time I’ve seen you, how much time, do you think, did it take me to fall for the whole package?”

She stayed in silence for some seconds after his words and he wondered if he had exposed himself too much.

“I don’t believe you, I was nasty at the beginning, insufferable.” She said, laughing.

“You were a bad liar.” He said, kissing her forehead. “I was nervous because I wanted to hold you close, like this.. but I knew that I couldn’t. I wanted to kiss your hair..to touch your skin, I wanted to bury my face in your neck..” He found her neck and bit it playfully. “You smell so fucking good, have I ever told you that?”

“No.” She said, burying her fingers in his hair.

“My cherry-wench.”

She laughed and he bit her skin again. Then he slid his hand on the small of her back and pulled her against him. She gasped, surprised.

“This is how much I want you, if you still have any doubt.” He whispered in her ear. “Do you want me too, Brienne?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“You know how much.”

“If I would slid my hand under your pretty dress right now, tell me, how much wet I would find you?”

“Shut up.” She said laughing, hiding her face in the crook if his neck.

“How much, Brienne?”

“Soaking.” She said, her words muffled against his skin.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you correctly, could you repeat, please?”

She chuckled and then she raised her head, taking his face in her hands. “Soaking wet.” She said, staring at him in the eyes.

He took a breath and closed his eyes, smiling. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

They walked along the seafront, their fingers perfectly interlaced, their hands swinging between them in a childish dance; he glanced at her sometimes and she rewarded him with a shy smile. For the first time he understood the true meaning behind the words “to be in love”.

She made him thirsty; thirsty for her eyes that became shiny when she was smiling or she blushed shyly, or dark when she was in deep concentration, when she yelled at him and when he put indecent thoughts in her pure mind. He was thirsty for her trembling fingers touching his skin, caressing him tentatively like she was afraid that her touch could have been unwelcome. Thirsty for her lips, chapped cherries, that he had briefly tasted before dinner, realizing that he couldn’t wait anymore.

She stopped walking, leaning her elbows on the railing that separated the seafront from the beach. He knelt down to pick up a small pomegranate fallen from a nearby tree. He looked at it and then he put it in the pocket of his pants.

“That’s my house.” She said, pointing to a yellow house.

He followed her finger, finding it. “Want to go there?”

“No.” She said immediately. “Not now.. tomorrow?”

He smiled, pleased by her answer. “When you want, wench.”

She sighed, the breeze messing lightly some locks of her hair. “You know why I was afraid of coming here?” She asked him.

He rested his back against the railing and looked at her. “Why?”

“I was afraid of feeling nothing.. emptiness, apathy.. like the pain had taken everything away, you know, like a sort of anesthetizing.” She chuckled bitterly.

“And?” He asked her.

“And that’s why I’ve asked you to come with me.. because you have the opposite effect on me.. you..”

“What wench?”

“You make me feel too much.”

His words were stuck in his throat so he grabbed her hand instead and he led her toward the beach.

“Come with me.”

“Where?” She said.

“Take off your shoes.”

“Why? She asked, laughing.

“Trust me.”

She removed her shoes and he did the same; then he turned her, guiding her from her elbows until she was in front of him, her back against his chest. “Jaime?”

“Ok, now close your eyes.” He whispered in her ear.

“Wait, do you want to play Titanic?”

“Funny, Brienne! Close your eyes.” He said, laughing.

She did but he wasn’t convinced. “Ok, I actually don’t trust you so I need to take care of it.” He said jokingly, covering her eyes with his hand.

“What the fuck..”

“Language, wench.. I’m trying to be romantic here.”

She started laughing hysterically and he tickled her side with his free hand. She almost collapsed against him in response. “Jaime, fuck, I’m ticklish.”

“I’ve noticed it.” He said laughing. “Now, focus, we need to going downstairs.”

He guided her through the steps, but it took them a few minutes, slowed down by laughter and loss of balance until they stopped. “Ready?” He asked her. 

“Yes.” She said, almost breathless.

“Ok, let's see if you still feel something..walk.”

She did and she smiled when her toes touched the sand.

“How is it?” He whispered in her ear.

“Cold.” She said, grabbing his hand around her body. “But it’s pleasant.. it’s fresh.”

“Good.” He said, making her keep walking. Then he stopped her and with the hand not busy in covering her eyes, he loosened her hair. The air hit immediately her locks.

“The breeze.” She said, smiling. He kissed her shoulder. “I have goosebumps.”

“It’s the breeze.” He said, embracing her again. 

“Keep walking with me now, wench.” He said, guiding her step after step, until her foot met the water.

She gasped in surprise and he laughed in her hair. “How is it?”

“warm.” She whispered and made another step to make him reach the water in turn. Their feet touched under the water.

“Can I open my eyes, now?” She asked him.

“Not yet.” 

She pinched his wrist and he laughed. “Lick your lips.” He said then, surprising her.

“Why?”

“Lick your lips.”

She did it slowly and he was pretty sure that she was provoking him. “Salty.” She whispered in the end.

“Really?” He asked her, pretending surprise.

She nodded. “It’s the sea salt.”

“Let me check.” He said seriously before pressing his lips against her own. She was about to respond, but he pulled away quickly.

“Gods, wench! They’re fucking salty, I can’t kiss you like that.”

She laughed, leaning against him and he tightened his arm around her. 

“Free me.” She asked him.

“Will you keep your eyes closed? I haven’t finished with you.”

She nodded and he removed his hand from her eyes, then, in silence, he took the pomegranate from his pocket and break it in half. She was still trapped between his arms.

“Don’t peek.” He whispered in her ear. He dipped his finger inside the fruit and took some pulp from it, then he raised it toward her lips. He traced the contour, wetting them with the pulp and she sighed in surprise.

“Jaime..” 

“mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

He took other pulp from the fruit. “I’m making you sweet.. open your mouth.” He whispered.

She did and he put his finger inside. “Suck my finger.” 

She did and he was surprised when after some seconds, she licked it clean. 

He groaned against her. “Now taste yourself, are you sweet enough?”

She licked her lips slowly and he couldn’t stop himself when he pressed his erection lightly against her buttocks. “Brienne, are you sweet enough?”

“Check it yourself.”

He tilted her head to the side and then he assaulted her lips. She moaned in the kiss, welcoming his tongue. He buried his hand in her hair and she did the same. He sucked her tongue and bit her lower lip to gather all the sweetness he could find; then their tongues met again, thirsty for each other, each one trying to dominate the other. He tilted her head below to gain more access and she yielded to his force. He stopped the kiss and she turned her beautiful eyes to him. He found residual of juice on her chin and tried to clean it with his thumb, tenderly.

Then he looked at her. “Happy birthday, wench.”

She frowned in response and he took advantage of her surprise, kissing her again. One of his hand slid down the skirt of her dress finding her thigh and caressing it. She interrupted the kiss, abandoning her head on his shoulder, affected by his touch. He guided them both until they sat on the sand. He opened his legs to make her sit between them and he pulled her buttocks firmly against his erection. She moaned, opening her legs in turn. His hands caressed her thighs and then they raised the hem of her skirt slowly. 

“Show me how you do it.” He whispered hotly in her ear.

“Do it, what?” She asked, half trembling.

“Don’t be naive, Brienne.. show me how you touch yourself.”

“People could see us.”

“There’s no one and besides, I don’t fucking care.”

He saw her hesitation, but then he talked again. “Since that day, when you told me that you touched yourself, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.. I’ve dreamed about it so many times, Brienne..”

She tilted her head, looking deeply at him; then with one hand she shifted her panties to one side while with the other she started caressing her clit. He left her eyes and followed her movements instead. She started panting and he made rest her head against his shoulder. He kissed her neck sensually when he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, that she started penetrating herself with one finger. He encircled her wrist to match her thrusts until, yielding to the incredible urge, he slid his own finger inside her, finding her own.

Their fingers met inside her and kept thrusting together. “You’re soaking, Brienne.”

“I’m sorry.” She said against his neck.

He chuckled. “Why? The more soaked you are.. the more I want you.”

She moaned due to his words while she retreated her finger. “Jaime?”

“Yes?” He breathed in her hair.

“Make me come.”

He penetrated her faster while his other hand found her clit. “You like it?” he asked her.

“More.” She said in a whisper and he added another finger.

“I could keep doing this all the night.” 

She brushed with her forehead his chin and then she looked up at him; he lost himself in her eyes, pools of lust and need. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but he kissed her instead, tenderly, slowing his movements inside her, but intensifying them at the same time. She closed her eyes and he kissed each eyelid in turn. Every thrust was slower than the one before and she pulled his face down to kiss his mouth.

“Please.” She said between kisses. He massaged her clit repeatedly, delicately, like he had already learned the secret way to touch her, until she came against his lips. She relaxed against his body and her encircled her from behind.

“Welcome to the first real orgasm of your life.” He whispered in her ear.

She chuckled, amused: “You had already made me come once.”

“Doesn’t count, I wasn’t touching you.”

She turned in the embrace and kissed his neck. “How do you know about my birthday?”

“I’m a psychic, remember?” He said seriously.

“Come on!” She said, slapping his arm playfully.

“It’s written in your files, anyway.. I have something for you.” He said, trying to hide a hint of nervousness and taking a little box from his pants’ pocket. When she saw it, she raised himself from his chest, alarmed. “J-Jaime?”

He laughed. “Ok, wench.. first of all, promise me you won’t freak out.”

“Jaime, what’s in the box?”

“Promise me.”

She nodded.

“It’s your gift.” He said then, giving it to her.

She took it, uncertain. “Jaime?”

“Open it.” He said softly, ignoring the wild beating of his heart.

She did and he noticed her fingers were shaking. He would have wanted to frame the look on her face when she saw what was inside.

“Jaime, this is.. I don’t understand..I can’t.. I can’t accept it.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Not Jaime, really..it’s too much.”

“Brienne, it’s yours, it will always be yours.” He took the ring from the box and put it on her finger instead.

“I don’t understand.”

He smiled, caressing her cheek. “I won’t propose to you right now, wench, even if, believe me, deep down there’s nothing I would like to do more..but, consider it like a pledge, my secret and desperate oath to you and maybe one day, who knows, you will be foolish enough to marry me.”

She covered his hand with her own. “Foolish? You’re the best thing happened to me.” She told him.

He swallowed. “You like it, I see.” He joked, trying not to show how much her words had affected him.

She laughed, looking at her finger. “Sapphire?”

“What else?”

“Why?”

“You know why.. besides, it’s precious and anything precious goes well with you.”

His words were almost interrupted by her kiss. Then she looked at him with a new intensity and he knew what would have been her next words. “Jaime..I think, I mean, I’m pretty sure that I l...”

“Shh.” He said against her lips. “Not yet.” 

“You don’t know what I was about to say..”

He laughed at her annoyance.

“I was about to ask you if your Hotel is close..”

He decided to accept her lie. “Mmm, why wench? What do you want to do in my Hotel?”

“Take me there and you’ll find out.”

* * *

The anticipation was strong in the air, like a silent but bulky presence that was leading them in his hotel room. Jaime knew that he wouldn’t have made love with her that night; he knew the place was wrong, he knew that he wanted their first time together to be in her home, on her childhood bed, between her things, her covers, her memories. He wanted to turn each one of them into hope,especially the bad ones. He wanted to make her feel happy, safe and wanted there, to give her something unforgettable that would have warmed her heart in the future, just thinking about it.

That’s why he felt a little guilty when she excused herself in his bathroom, maybe trying nervously to fix her almost non-existent make-up and to freshen her breath to be ready for him. He reached the private terrace of his room, laying down on the chaise longue and contemplating the view in front of him when he heard her approaching him.

“Fuck, how much have you payed this place?” She asked him.

He shrugged in response and she rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She asked him.

“Enjoying the view.” He said, looking carefully at her.

“Why don’t you enjoy it from your bed?” She said bravely, biting her lip.

He smiled, looking at her. “I won’t make love with you tonight, Brienne.” He said and he could discern the disappointment in her eyes from afar.

“Why?”

“You’re not ready.”

“That’s bullshit.” She almost screamed and he fought the urge to laugh at her impatience. “I’m more than ready, ok?”

He shook his head in response. “No, wench.”

“Please.” She begged him and he was hit by a wave of tenderness. “Actually, you know what? I think..it seems that you don’t want me enough, that’s it.. this is just a justification, an excuse and honestly, I’m sick of it.”

Suddenly the sweetness was all forgotten.

“Come here.” He said firmly.

He saw her eyes darkening, while she responded silently to his command. She approached him, stopping just near the chaise longue. He looked at her from head to toes, not changing his position.

“Take off your panties.” 

She swallowed, staring at him. 

“Do it.”

She started raising the hem of the skirt of her dress with trembling fingers and her uncertainty made her even sexier to him. He followed every movement with his eyes, not missing a single hesitation. Her hands sneaked under the skirt and she removed her panties, slowly, leaving them trapped between her feet. He gave her his left hand, helping her to extricate herself from them, then once free, he left her hand and found the back of her thigh instead, tightening his fingers on her skin in a possessive gesture.

She moaned lowly and he became harder.

“Straddle it.” 

She stayed still, frowning in confusion and he pinched her buttock under the skirt.

“Straddle the chair.” He repeated slowly, scanning each word. She searched for his hand to help her and then she did what he was asking. He left the backrest, approaching her body, his face at the level of her pussy. He put his hands around her hips, raising the skirt even higher, totally exposing her. 

She shivered.

He kissed her right thigh. “You know, I was thinking to take you gently, sweetly..” He said, caressing her skin. “Delicately.” He bit it and he saw that she was struggling with the urge to touch him in turn. “But it seems that you can’t help but provoking me.”

“I wasn’t provoking you.” She whispered.

“Shh.” He said against her skin. “ _It seems that you don’t want me enough _, really Brienne? Is that what you think?” He asked her, mimicking her words.__

__

__“No.” She said in a breath. He started to kiss the skin around her hip toward the center, until he stopped under her bellybutton._ _

__

__“Have you shaved?” He asked her then, looking up at her. He had already noticed it before but now, the evidence of it, made him even more aroused._ _

__

__She dismissed his gaze, suddenly shy. “Yes.”_ _

__

__“Why?” He asked her, licking the skin there, while his hands found her buttocks, taking her more against him. He inhaled deeply and her hands found his shoulders to support herself._ _

__

__“I.. I thought you would have liked it more like this.” She said shyly._ _

__

__“You thought about my mouth on your pussy?”_ _

__

__She made a strange sound in response and he chuckled. “I would have fucked you with my mouth anyway, sweetheart.”_ _

__

__“Do it, please.” She said surprising him and he met her eyes, looking deeply at her. He reclined on the armchair, taking her body with him, until her pussy was just above his lips._ _

__

__“It’s the first time, isn’t it?” He asked her, while his tongue followed the length of her labia._ _

__

__“Jaime..” She moaned, gripping the backrest behind them. He took her left leg, grabbing it from her knee and planted her foot on the armrest, to expose her more._ _

__

__“Tell me nobody has ever done this to you.” He said, caressing her inner thigh._ _

__

__“Why?”_ _

__

__“Because you’re mine.” He started lapping at her pussy, slowly, every time stopping closer to her clit, without touching it. He noticed her knees were trembling and he looked up at her, her eyes were closed._ _

__

__He stopped abruptly and then he felt the heart in his throat when she turned her beautiful eyes to him._ _

__

__“You need to look at me, Brienne.. every time you’ll dismiss my gaze, I’ll stop.”_ _

__

__“I can’t.”_ _

__

__“You need to see with your eyes how much I want you.”_ _

__

__She nodded, swallowing._ _

__

__He resumed lapping at her pussy, while staring deeply at her; he was challenging her with his eyes, showing how much he desired her. “The best taste of my fucking life.”He said, fastening his tongue against her, then he finally licked her clit once and she closed her eyes moaning loudly._ _

__

__He stopped._ _

__

__“Don’t.” She said, a tear escaping form her eyes and he was overwhelmed by a wave of tenderness. “Don’t stop please.”_ _

__

__He kept lapping her clit faster, moaning against it and she let her tears wetting her cheek. He penetrated her with his thumb and she started shaking. He noticed her tears, but the look of bliss painted on her face convinced him to keep moving. He curved his thumb inside her, finding a new spot, while his tongue started to make circles around her clit._ _

__

__His finger moved fast in and out of her while his tongue was seducing her in a hesitant dance._ _

__

__“Please.” She begged him again._ _

__

__He stopped licking her and he brushed her clit with his cheek covered in beard, then he used his chin, the other cheek and his nose, brushing the whole face against her. “Fuck.” He said, surrounded by her taste._ _

__

__He sucked her clit once in the end and she moaned loudly, curling her toes. He did it a second time, then a third and it took her a bunch of seconds to find her release. When she did, he saw her knees bending without notice and he found her sitting in front of him on the chaise longue. He looked at her, noticing the tears and in a second he took her in his arms._ _

__

__Because it was like this with her, an eternal swing between sweetness and desire._ _

__

__She raised her legs to put them around him and he understood her need of being impossibly close._ _

__

__“I’m sorry..I don’t know why I’m crying.” She said, her words muffled in his shirt. He tightened the embrace and buried his fingers in her hair._ _

__

__“Shh, it’s ok..I got you.”_ _

__

__“You always do.”_ _

__

__He smiled against her temple. “I just hope..I haven’t made you uncomfortable or..”_ _

__

__She raised the head from his shoulder abruptly and she looked at him deeply in the eyes. “You’ve made me feel beautiful.”_ _

__

__He took her face in his hands, overwhelmed by her sweetness and kissed her forehead, then he rested his own against hers. He wanted to kiss her but he was afraid she would have found repulsing to taste herself on him. She surprised him, though, encircling his wrists and kissing him senselessly, sucking his tongue between her lips._ _

__

__His right hand found the small of her back and pulled her closer; she moaned when he pressed his erection against her. She started to loosen his shirt’s buttons frantically and he laughed in the kiss, enjoying her impatience. He covered her fingers and stopped her. “Not yet, sweetheart, I haven’t finished with you.”_ _

__

__She stilled, looking confused at him._ _

__

__He smiled, kissing her nose; then she cupped her head and made her lay down, taking advantage of the length of the chair. He raised her dress again, making her totally exposed. She tried to close her legs, ashamed, but he was sitting between them, blocking her attempt._ _

__

__“Now wench, you need to know how to really enjoy this.”_ _

__

__“I already know how..”_ _

__

__He shook his head firmly, interrupting her words. “There’s a rule with me.”_ _

__

__“W-what rule?” She asked, her legs trembling against his thighs._ _

__

__“You don’t have to hold back.. never hold back with me.”_ _

__

__“I wasn’t holding back..”_ _

__

__“Liar.” He said, smiling mischievously. He lowered himself toward her and kissed her inner thigh. She sighed in anticipation. “I’ve been watching you before..you were struggling with your hands like you wanted so bad to bury your fingers in my hair to guide me, am I wrong?”_ _

__

__She dismissed his eyes. “I..”_ _

__

__“Please do it.” He whispered, lowering himself toward her and starting to lick her inner folds._ _

__

__“Please do what the fuck you want, I’m yours.”_ _

__

__She didn’t move her hands at the beginning, shocked by his words and he slowed down his movements in response, driving her insane._ _

__

__“Faster, Jaime.” She begged him._ _

__

__“Make me.” He said, almost stopping._ _

__

__She buried her fingers in his hair and started to guide his head when she wanted him the most. He moaned, lapping faster. He was still blocking her hips with his hands and when he started penetrating her with his tongue, she seemed to struggle under his grip._ _

__

__“Don’t hold back.” He said, against her._ _

__

__She removed his hands form her hips and started to raise them to meet his thrusts; She was shy at first, hesitantly. Then, he looked deeply at her in approval and she pushed back hardly._ _

__

__“Jaime..” She moaned his name. “Fuck me.” He penetrated her faster, overwhelmed by her need. She surprised him once again when he took his hands and made them slid under her dress, until they cupped her naked breasts. He pinched her nipples and her fingers found his hair again, guiding him in and out of her. He was totally lost in her taste and in the sensation of her nipples hardening under his fingers. He was painfully hard and he started to rub himself against the chaise._ _

__

__“You’re driving me insane.” He said between thrusts._ _

__

__She pulled his hair almost painfully and he groaned. “Jaime.. I want..”_ _

__

__“Yes, show me what you want.”_ _

__

__She removed one of his hand form her breast and made it touch her clit instead; he responded to her command and brushed it lightly with his thumb. She was panting loudly._ _

__“Don’t stop.. never stop.”_ _

__

__He increased the pressure of his finger while he kept penetrating her with his tongue and seconds later he felt his beard dripping with her release. He kissed her belly and after some seconds, she raised herself, resting on her elbows._ _

__

__“That was..”_ _

__

__“How?” He asked her smugly._ _

__

__“Amazing.”_ _

__

__“It wasn’t bad, wench.. but I think we can improve it..” He said._ _

__

__“Jaime, what..”_ _

__

__Her words were interrupted by his tongue on her, another time._ _

__

__After he made her come for the fourth time, they cuddled on the chaise longue; he kept caressing her hair until she fell asleep, then he kissed her temple, “I love you” he whispered against her skin, but her eyes were already closed._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think I should change the rating into E?  
> Anyway, I was very nervous about this chapter for obvious reasons, please comment and tell me I haven't fucked it up.  
> WE ARE ALMOST AT THE END, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT.


	11. Little yellow houses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, guys but I've struggled with this chapter so much and I'm so nervous about it; anyway, I'm also happy I could finish this fic, because I've loved writing it. I hope you will be satisfied with the end. I'm grateful that you have enjoyed it and that you have found the time to comment it, thank you so much.  
> This story is for my friend Chiara who has supported me so much from the beginning:)

                                                                 

 

Sometimes, it’s strange how, doing the easiest daily things you can have the deepest epiphanies.

She was brushing her teeth while she started crying, lightly; a mix of mint and happy tears exploded in her mouth and she wondered if that was how happiness tasted like.

They had changed position during the night, giving up the romantic idea of sleeping pressed together on a chaise longue under the stars and choosing for the king-size bed instead. She had worn one of his green t-shirts that barely covered her buttocks and he had drunk in the view, asking her if her legs kept growing an inch more every time he looked at them. Once under the blankets, they had reached for each other with an easiness that didn’t surprise them anymore; her fingers had curled on his t-shirt, grabbing a piece of cloth, almost fearing that he could have disappeared during the night. His fingers caressed her hair, sometimes twisting a lock in a childish gesture while his lips danced on her forehead, mumbling nonsense that she couldn’t quite catch.

Happiness, almost.

There was still a step, the last one.

He had told her once, during one of their sessions, that she needed to learn to exorcise her fears; that was the reason why she didn’t protest when, that morning, he took her in front of her childhood house. The yellow of the facade had faded a little, the meadow surrounding it had turned into a wild brushwood, but there was still that old atmosphere that felt like home to her. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining wandering peacocks between fallen pomegranates, his father helping her building a birdhouse, her mother on the corner painting the scene. She took a breath and she felt his hand pressed against the small of her back.

She turned to look at him and he kissed her forehead.

“Where do you want to start?” He asked her tentatively.

She lowered her eyes, playing with a button of his shirt, not really hiding her nervousness. “We should start from the garage.” She said then.

He squeezed her hip lightly. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, half smiling and then she took his hand. She led him in the retro of the house, in front of the garage. She took a breath and, after a brief hesitation, she raised the garage door; she stilled, looking inside while his fingers kneaded her nape in an evident sign of support.

The room was dark, covered in dust and spider webs; if she closed her eyes for a moment, she could still hear the flood beating with fury against the door, she could smell the rainwater mixed with the blood; she could still picture everything in her mind except his father’s body, she couldn’t remember his shape, or delineate his face, like a puzzle’s piece was missing, faded like her house’s walls.

“It happened over there.” She said in a whisper, pointing at the corner of the room. She reached the place and he followed her silently.

There was a faded stain of blood still visible on the floor.

“Every two week my aunt comes here cleaning my house, it has always been like this since when I left but.. this place, nobody has ever entered here since the accident, it’s like they were all trying to forget what happened.”

“Everyone except you.” Jaime said her softly.

“That’s because I don’t want to forget.” She said, brushing away a small tear from her cheek. “You know why I’ve become a detective?”

He shook his head, approaching her.

“Too see the violence, the death, the blood every day.. I think it was like a way to punish myself somehow, to still remember all of this, like a cross I had to carry with me all my life. Then, unexpectedly, I’ve started loving it.. it’s absurd, isn’t it?”

“I disagree with you.” He answered her.

“Sorry?”

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “That’s not why you chose it and you know it.. how many lives have you saved?” He asked her then.

She was surprised by his question. “I don’t know.. several, I guess.”

“That’s why you chose it.”

“You have quite a romantic idea about me, I’m afraid.”

“You didn’t save your father, or better, that’s what you have always repeated to yourself.. nobody saved you for sure, you wanted to save the others though, you wanted to help them in every possible way, you wanted them not to feel alone, helpless and hopeless, like the way you have always felt.. you wanted them to have a happy ending, even if you didn’t have one, because you’re pure, selfless, too good for this world.”

She blinked away the tears and then she hid her face in the crook of his neck like a sweet surrender. They stayed like this for some minutes and he let her cry against his skin, silently, without interrupting her outburst.

“One day, we’ll need to talk about it, by the way.” He tolde her some minutes later.

“About what?” She asked him, her voice muffled by his neck.

“About your work.”

Then she looked up at him, surprised. “What?”

He sighed, caressing her back. “It’s just.. I don’t know how I will cope with the fact that you basically risk your life everyday, Brienne.”

She smiled sweetly, overwhelmed by his concern. “I don’t risk my life everyday, believe me.”

“I don’t wanna loose you.” He whispered.

“You won’t, I promise you.” She said. He nodded, smiling but she suspected that it would have been a recurring argument between them, thing that gave her an unexpected thrill of excitement, not fear.

They were a couple, they were something, something real.

She returned his smile and then she bit her bottom lip in a childish nervousness. “So.. do you want to see my bedroom.”

He sighed dramatically. “Gods, I was afraid you would have never asked.”

* * *

After a brief exploration of the house, with Jaime teasing her at every funny items they found, they reached her bedroom. He admired a framed pic of her at the age of six surrounded by peacocks while she sat on the floor, her back against the bed; Jaime was following her when something seemed to catch his eyes. He looked at a small portion of wall semi hidden behind a curtain and he approached it. There were pillows and poufs scattered on the floor and he positioned himself on them, studying the wall in front of him. A small smile greeted the vision while he turned slightly toward her.

“What is this?” He asked her softly.

She lowered her eyes shyly, like she had got caught. “N-nothing, nonsense of my childhood.”

He kept looking at her, amused and then he turned to the wall. “Come on, humor me.”

She sighed, gaining an irritating chuckle in response. “It’s a drawing.”

“Yes, I can see that, I still have eyes, wench.” He said, tracing the contour of a painted house. “Please?”

“My teacher, one day, asked us to draw who we wanted to become once grown up, what was our biggest dream.. I was seven years old, I believe, maybe eight, who knows?”

He frowned in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Go on.”

“The other kids started drawing the coolest stuff.. astronauts, singers, vets, you know, all those things you can expect from a kid that age. The problem was that I had no idea about what I wanted to become once grown up.. or better I didn’t think my idea of dream would have lived up to their expectations.”

“What did you draw?” Jaime asked her.

“A ballerina.” She said, smiling. “It was the first thing that crossed my mind and it wouldn’t have caused too many questions. My teacher told us to hang them on the wall of our bedrooms, like we needed a reminder of what we wanted to be.” She took a breath and she looked at the mural, smiling. “When I came back, that day, I cut the drawing into pieces, it didn’t belong to me, it was a lie.. I didn’t want it on my wall. I remember, when my mom was still alive, that she told me that I always had to turn every inspiration that I had into something real, tangible. _“What is an inspiration?”_ I asked her one day.. she answered me that an inspiration was every fascinating idea that crossed my mind.” She sighed, looking at the ceiling.

“She was cool, wasn’t she?” Jaime asked her from his position.

She looked at him, smiling. “That was exactly what she did with her paintings.. she trapped the fascinating ideas on the canvas. That day, I took my wax crayons and I painted directly on that wall what I really wanted to become once grown up.. I chose that portion because I could easily hide it with the curtain, my father would have probably killed me, finding it out.” She said, laughing.

Jaime smiled, holding her gaze for some seconds and then he turned to analyze the drawing.

“Let’s see what we have here.” He said, seriously. “A house, a little yellow house.”

“I grew up in a yellow house, to me every house was yellow.” She explained, chuckling.

“You?” He said, pointing to a shape near it. She nodded in response. “Your hair is the same color of your house’s walls, wench.”

She laughed. “I didn’t have a lot of choices of colors, Jaime.”

“Gods, is this one supposed to be your husband?” He said, pointing to the shape next to the first.

“We’re holding hands, of course he’s my husband.” She replied in a childish indignation.

“Dark hair, seriously?” He asked her, sounding almost offended.

“There was already too much yellow in the painting.”

“He is shorter than you, wench.”

“You too are shorter than me, Jaime.” She replied bravely.

His eyes found hers immediately and a strange electricity passed between them. He smiled, loving the hidden meaning behind her words.

“That was my dream.. living in a yellow house with someone holding my hand, someone who loved me.. but I couldn’t really paint it in class.”

“Why not?”

“It was silly.”

“It was not.” He said. Then he found a box of crayons on the shelf near the wall and he took one.

“What are you doing?” She asked him confused.

“I’m naming your masterpiece.”

She laughed. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, it deserves a name..” He said, approaching the wall. He started writing, painting every letter with studied slowness.

“Move, I can’t read it.. you’re covering it.”

“Patience, wench.” He said, but there was a strange nervousness in his voice. He wrote the last letter and then, after some seconds of hesitation, he retreated to make her read it. She shook her head, amused and then she focused on the writing. Her smile dropped, her eyes became glassy and she opened her mouth to say something that didn’t come out though.

She looked at him and she found the same emotion mirrored in his eyes.

“I do.. I really do.” He whispered to her.

“I love you too, Jaime.” She whispered back. He smiled, biting his bottom lip, his eyes sparkling. He crawled toward her and she laughed, due to his childish gesture. He stopped just an inch before her face, still on his knees and on her hands. He brushed his nose against her own, playfully.

“Say it again.” He asked her.

“You’re the one who still has to say it properly.” She said, pretending annoyance.

His smile was too contagious and she couldn’t help but smiling back.

He frowned, pretending to be in deep thoughts, studying her face and she pinched his cheek playfully. He didn’t miss a beat and trapped her finger between his teeth, biting it lightly. She laughed and he followed her until he became serious. He looked at her deeply and then he closed the distance between them.

“I..” He said, kissing her left eyelid, “love..” he kissed the right one, “you.” He whispered against her lips and she buried her fingers in his hair to pull him closer.

They kissed fiercely, crushing each other lips, their tongues restless, interlacing without never stopping. He pulled her hair, lowering her head to try to dominate the kiss, but she mimicked his actions and with a rapid movement, he found himself with his back against the bed, Brienne straddling his thighs. They stopped kissing, breathing against each other; he bit her bottom lip, not too playfully while she buried her fingers in his hair.

“I want you.” He said against her lips, while his hands traveled under her t-shirt, the one she had borrowed from him that morning, making circles on her skin. He reached her breasts and palmed them gently, then she pressed her sex against him in response and he squeezed them hard, making her moan against his mouth. “Tell me you want me too.”

Brienne arched her body when she felt his fingers making slow and dangerous dances around her nipples, but then one of his hand left her breast and sank into her hair to make her to look at him.

“Tell me.” He asked again, sounding almost insecure.

She covered his erection with her palm, pressing it lightly. “I want you, Jaime..”

He sighed and started kissing her neck, then he stopped at her ear. “Tell me about your first time.”

She stiffened at his words and she removed her hand from his pants. “There’s nothing to tell.” She said in a small voice.

Jaime looked up at her, unable to hide his curiosity, his hands grabbing her hips, almost afraid that she could have escaped, changing her mind.

“Why do you want to know about my first time?” She asked, not looking at him.

He seemed surprised by her hesitation. “You didn’t tell me much..just that it was a little bit traumatic.. that’s why I’ve never asked you again.. but I just wanted to know a little bit more.”

She nodded, eyes fixed on her fingers fidgeting on her lap. He cupped her cheek, making her look at him. “What’s wrong, Brienne?”

“I’ve lied to you.” She said immediately, leaning into his touch.

He frowned in confusion. “You’ve lied?”

“Not about the traumatic part.. do you really want to know about it?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

“Ok.” She said, defeated. “I.. I was seventeen and there was this guy who worked with me in the pub. He was nice to me, he was the only person I could call friend until one day I’ve asked him to have sex with me.. just like that. During that time I had some problems accepting my phobia.. especially seeing all the girls around me hanging out with boys, having fun, making out on the benches in the park..you know that kind of stuff. Then there was me, never held by anyone, never kissed, never touched, never anything. I just wanted to end it, to force myself doing something I didn’t even want, just something that I needed.” She felt him caressing her cheek and fixing a lock around her ear.

“Still no lies.” He told her sweetly.

“That night..” She resumed talking. “I was so nervous and scared, I asked him to take some weed to relax myself and I smoked a little bit.. it was the first time and I just wanted something to help me, I would have never touched my father’s alcohol, the trauma was still fresh back then. When I started relaxing, he straddled me on the couch and he kissed me.. it was horrible, I couldn’t breath.. I felt my throat tightening, my hands trembling.. and I guess the effect of the weed worsened everything. I tried to kick him out, to tell him to stop, but he kept kissing me on the neck, on my breast, until I pushed him away and I started punching him in the face..there was so much blood.”

Jaime was looking at her with a mix of anger and surprise. “What happened then?”

“He left and I’ve never seen him again after that night.”

“I’m so sorry.” He said, taking her hands and kissing them. “Why haven’t you told me before?”

“You still don’t get it, don’t you?”

He arched an eyebrow in response. “What?”

“Besides that time.. there has never been another one, never.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Brienne?”

“I’m a virgin, Jaime.” She said, escaping his gaze.

He didn’t say a word and closed his eyes, sighing.

“Are you angry?” She asked him shyly.

“I’m not angry, Brienne.. you should have told me, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it would have changed, you should have told me. Gods, Brienne, I basically assaulted you last night, I was clouded by desire, I wasn’t even thinking..”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t, Jaime..I didn’t want you to be gentle to me, to be delicate, to hold back and treat me like I was made of glass.. I didn’t want your pity, I wanted.. I wanted passion, I needed to feel wanted.. so I’m sorry if for once in my life I’ve been selfish and yes, I’ve lied to you, but I would do it again.” She said and then she left him, standing up and reaching the terrace adjoined her room.

She leaned against the railing, facing the sea in front of her, trying to calm down her accelerated breathing, losing herself in the gentle rhythm of the waves. She could hear, behind her back, his approach, but, surprisingly he didn’t reach for her, busying himself with tasks she couldn’t catch. Then she felt the distinct sound of a lighter and suddenly, the notes of an old but beloved song filled the air. She turned around, curious, finding the terrace totally changed. There were pillows and blankets scattered on the floor, half worn-out candles and her pink cassette player in a corner. She frowned, confused, and then she met his eyes. He closed the distance between them, trapping her body between his arms.

_come a little bit closer hear what i have to say._

He kissed her forehead and then he whispered in her ear. “I’ll do everything to make it unforgettable, I promise you.”

“I’m sorry.”

She buried her face in his chest and she hugged him tight, melting against his body; his heart was beating fast and she realized that he was even more nervous than she was. Her fingers were slightly trembling when she started unbuttoning his shirt, but when she put her palm against his exposed skin, almost trying to calm his heart, the warmth she found there appeased her hesitation. He took her face in his hands and made her look at him. “Show me.” He told her.

“What?” She asked him in a small voice.

“Show me how much you want me.”

She was almost startled by the desire she found in his voice at first, but then she started kissing his neck, slowly, wetting her lips between each kiss to give him a sweeter caress. He sighed in appreciation, his fingers buried in her hair, not in a leading gesture, but following her exploration. She found his chest with her lips, tracing his shape with them, rubbing them against it. Her tongue licked his nipple, made hard by the desire and the light breeze and she repeated the action more than once, encouraged by his response. She went on her knees then, now paying attention to his stomach, she bit his skin playfully all around and then relieving it with her tongue. She kissed every inch of skin in adoration. Meanwhile her fingers found his belt and she started loosening it, until she removed his pants and she helped him getting rid of them. He wore black tight boxer and she tucked her hands under them to caress his buttocks, then she pulled him against her face and kissed his covered crotch.

“Brienne.” He almost moaned and she felt his fingers tightening around her hair. She pressed her lips against it with more force, following the length and he whispered her name again. She stood up then and she started undressing herself in front of him; she didn’t wear a bra, just a pair of plain cotton blue panties. He stared at her breasts and then he looked down, probably pleased by the visible wet patch on her underwear. She put her hands on his shoulders, making him retreat until they reached the arranged bed that he had created on the floor with pillows and blankets and she made him lay on it. He rested on his back, while his fingers tried to touch her breasts and to pinch her nipples, but she was faster and she pinned him down, trapping his hands above his head. She covered his body with her own, paying attention not to touch his erection at first. She kissed him hard, biting his bottom lip and then sucking his tongue. He raised his hips in response, but she raised hers a little too, resting on her knees and escaping him. Seconds later, she lowered herself into him, slowly, touching briefly his erection with her sex and then she retreated.

He groaned in response. “Do it again.” He said, almost praying her. She answered to his plea with another press, a little bit stronger than the previous one.

“Fucking tease.” He sighed and she smiled.

The third time she was repeating the gesture, she didn’t realize that one of his hand had freed itself from her grasp and the moment she pressed herself against him, she felt his hand on her butt, pulling her totally against him. They moaned together and when she was about to retreat he kept her in place. She yielded almost immediately, starting swaying against his erection. He accompanied her movements with his hand while their mouth found each other again, swallowing their moans. She rubbed herself against him again, unable to stop.

“Jaime.. I’m..”

“Don’t stop.. keep moving.” He said between kisses and she panted against his mouth. “Come for me, Brienne.”

She accentuated her movements, rubbing sensually against him, feeling sexy, feeling desired, feeling his erection hardening under her while his tongue was licking her neck, wetting every trembling inch of skin and when he whispered a new encouragement in her ear she came against him.

She leaned totally on him while he kept her close, caressing her back, almost trying to calm her erratic breathing. After some seconds she looked at him, resting her weight on her elbow, shifting a little on her side, but still covering him. Her right hand slid between them and he couldn’t look away from her eyes. Her nails followed the defined muscles on his chest and stomach, like she was trying to memorize his perfect shape in attempt to keep it in the secrecy of her mind; then she stopped at his boxer and taking a breath, she tucked her fingers inside, finding his erection. She circled it, hiding her tremble, even if his small smile gave her the confirmation that he had noticed her hesitation.

She sighed, annoyed at herself, and she fixed her grasp, stubbornly, until she felt his hand cupping her cheek, tilting her face toward his gaze. “Touch me.” He asked her.

Something melted inside her, the awareness that he was the one now craving her touch, asking for her skin against his own, like it was an urge he was tired to bury. She had always worried about her need of being touched, to the point that she had never wondered if someone could feel the same lack, sharing the same uneasiness fed by loneliness and fear.

So she touched him.

Her fingers were now strong around him, mimicking his hardness, his growing pleasure made them slid faster, urgent like she wanted to fill his evident void. His hand moved from his cheek to her hair and he gripped it tightly, adding more intensity to the moment. She looked at him and the pleasure she found in his eyes made her want to give him more. Without a second thought, she lowered his boxer to have a better access and her head went down, following her hand; then, without hesitation this time, her lips opened meeting the tip of his cock. He stiffened, moaning in surprise, and she closed her lips around it, sucking it softly. His grip on her hair softened, turning into a caress and following her movements gently. She kept moving up and down, every time taking him more into her mouth and she was surprised when she felt a delirious pleasure building inside her. She accelerated her rhythm, tightening her lips around him and she found herself moaning against his skin. She sucked him like it was the most natural thing to do, not worrying about the pressure of her teeth against his skin or about the light pain of her neck; it was like the time has stopped, like his pleasure was mixed with her own, their moans carried the same sound, the same weight and in her mind there was always that urge to give him more, the one that made her stop her movements for a second to take his erection in her hand and to lick it slowly, following all its length, with attentiveness, care. He resisted some seconds, but then he took her face in his hands, interrupting her movements, raising his body and sitting in front of her. She was on her knees, looking at him with a mix of disappointment and wonder and he kissed her softly. 

“You need to stop, sweetheart.”

“Is something wrong?” She asked alarmed.

He rested his forehead against her own, smiling. “It was perfect.”

She frowned, not satisfied with his answer. “Then why?”

“Because I want to make love with you, now.”

“Now?” She asked him nervously and he kissed her forehead.

“Why, are you nervous, wench?”

She was about to reply, when, without even knowing how, she found herself on her back, with him straddling her. He kissed her again, reassuring her, then his gaze followed her body like he was really looking at her for the first time. “Wench, I think I like everything about you.. yes, I'm pretty sure.”

“Shut up.” She said, pinching his arm.

He smiled. “Especially these.” He said going down and licking her right nipple, while caressing the left one with his fingers. He sucked the first, grazing it with his teeth, while pinching the second. She moaned, arching her back and he kept using his lips on her skin while his hand went down and started removing her panties. She followed his lead and she helped him out of his boxer too. Every inch of their bodies was pressed against each other like they were melting in a single entity. His fingers found her core and he started caressing her folds. He sighed against her lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stop assuming something is wrong.. it’s perfect, everything is perfect, Brienne.”

She was the one closing the distance and kissing him this time.

“Did you come?” He asked her and she was surprised by his question.

“Earlier? Yes, when I was… you know, moving against you, I mean, when I.. fuck, you got it.”

He chuckled, enjoying her discomfort. “I wasn’t talking about that.. when you were sucking me off, did you come, Brienne?” He said, loving the way she squirmed at his words.

“I..” She started, escaping his gaze and distracted by his fingers.

“You came while you were giving pleasure to me.. there’s nothing to be ashamed about, it’s beautiful, thank you.” He said almost reverentially. His finger entered her slowly and she stilled under him. He started moving it in and out of her, checking her reaction. “Promise me something.” He asked her. “If I’ll do anything that..”

“Stop it.” She interrupted him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered. She was surprised by his need, then she removed his finger from her folds and took his cock instead, leading it at her opening.

“I think you can do the rest alone, don’t you?” She teased him and he bit her neck playfully.

“Are you on the pill, right?” He asked her.

“How do you even know it?” She replied exasperated.

He chuckled against her ear. “I’ve found your pills that time I was searching for some painkillers for your ankle, remember? It was next to an old pack of condoms.”

“I knew you would have peeked around.”

“You know me too well, don’t you?” It was a casual question, but they both knew how important it really was. “I’m clean, anyway.” He said, resting his forehead against hers.

“Good, because I don’t want to feel anything but us, I just want you inside me.”

“I love you.” He told her and she was about to answer him when he entered her, slowly. He stayed inside her, staring deeply at her.

“Look at me.” He asked her.

She did and he started to move inside her.

His eyes never lost hers, every thrust was calibrated, regulated by her moans, her breathing, the darkening of her eyes. It seemed like a challenge, nobody wanted to interrupt the stare. When her moans became deeper, he swallowed them with his lips, but even their kisses were open-eyed.

“Faster.” She said against his lips.

He was just waiting for her permission.

He took her arms and pinned them above her head with one hand, the other found her hip, holding it. Then he started thrusting faster, the urge to satisfy her desire impossible to neglect. She opened her legs more, bending her knees to give him more access.

“Put them around me, please.” He panted against her lips; she did and he could feel them trembling on his skin. “Tighter, hold me.. please hold me.” She accentuated her grasp, interlacing her ankles behind his back and he sped up his thrusts.

“Jaime..” She moaned his name. “More.” The hand that was holding her hip, found her clit and he caressed it slowly, finding it impossibly wet. His sweated locks kept hitting her cheek at every thrust but she didn’t seem to mind, then she raised her face a little to catch his lips, but he pulled back playfully, escaping her kiss. She did it for a second time and he replied in the same way, smiling. The third time she freed one her hand from his grasp and buried it in his hair to keep him in place, then finally she crushed her lips on his, kissing him senselessly. He shoved deeply inside her, making them both moaning in response. “I’m close.” She said.

He raised her body and made her following his movements until he was sitting with her straddling his lap. “Fuck me.” He whispered into her ear.

She took his face in her hands. “Look at me.” She said, mimicking his previous words.

He did and she started moving; his hands found her hips, seconding her pace. Their eyes kept challenging each other and the intensity she found in him made her move faster, changing a little her angle to make him go deeper.

He moaned loudly. “Every time I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you harder and deeper until you’ll understand how much I want you, how much I crave you like I haven’t craved anyone else before.. until you’ll beg me to stop because your legs will ache, your pussy will ache..”

“I’ll never beg you to stop.” She replied against his lips.

“You know what excites me the most?”

She hushed him, grabbing his chin and kissing him hard.

He freed his mouth after some seconds with a moan. “The thought that I won’t fuck any other woman after you, just you, for all my life.”

She started to contract around him and he took the lead, guiding her into him clutching her hips so tightly that he would have left bruises.

Then he closed his eyes and with a feral groan he came inside her.

A thrust later, she followed him.

They breathed frantically, exhausted until he took her in his arms, pressing every inch of her body against his. He caressed her face with both hands, almost checking if she was alright, if there was some sing of uneasiness on her porcelain skin.

She kissed him lightly on the lips.

He guided his cock out of her, slowly, finding some blood on his skin. She looked down and then she hid her face in the crook of his neck in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“It seems that I’ve broken something inside you, wench.” He said, ignoring her apologize.

She burst out laughing at his words. “You’re such a romantic, aren’t you?” She said, raising her head and looking at him.

He followed her laughter, fixing an erratic lock plastered on her cheek. “You haven’t anyway.” She said eventually.

He frowned, confused. “I haven’t what?”

“You haven’t broken anything inside me.. you, you have only fixed me.”

He looked at her, his eyes suddenly glassy. “That’s not true, I..”

“You’ve saved me, Jaime.” She said, interrupting him.

He cupped her cheek. “Then I’m lucky.” He told her. “Because saving you, I’ve saved myself.”

She left the tears escaping her eyes, then she turned her lips toward his palm and kissed it. “Let’s go home.”

  


She felt a strange emotion watching her island becoming smaller, wave after wave. They had chosen the ferry to come home, opting for a longer journey and more time together; she was leaning on the railing when she felt his presence against her, encircling her body from behind.

“Sad?” He asked her.

“Relieved.” She replied.

He leaned his cheek against her when his phone rang. “Hey you, little princess.” He said into the phone. “It’s Myrce.” He whispered then to Brienne.

“Yes, honey.. we’re coming home.. what? No, I haven’t seen the dolphins, but I’ve seen other interesting stuff.” He said into Brienne’s ear and she elbowed him in response. “You need to speak with Brienne? Ok hang on a second.” “It’s for you.” He said to Brienne, passing her his phone, then he rested his chin on her shoulder.

\- “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?”

\- “Brienne, I’ve missed you.”

\- “I’ve missed you too, Myrce.” She replied softly and she felt Jaime smiling against her neck.

\- “Can I ask you something?”

\- “Of course, go on.”

\- “I’m happy you’re uncle Jaime’s princess..”

\- “Who told you that?” She asked, interrupting her.

\- “Uncle Tyrion.. is it true, right?”

\- “Yes Myrce, I’m uncle Jaime’s princess.” She said half laughing, while Jaime hummed in satisfaction in response. She pinched his arm.

\- “Then Brienne.. I need to ask you something..you can also say no, ok?”

\- “What’s going on, Myrce?”

\- “Well..since.. since I have no mommy anymore, could you please be my princess too?”

Brienne stiffened at her words, realizing their hidden meaning, then she felt Jaime’s lips on her temple. “You don’t need to answer.” He said softly into her hair, giving her the confirmation that he had heard her niece’s words.

-“Brienne?”

\- “Of course I will be your princess, sweetheart.. I will be.. anything you want, ok?”

\- “You will be Tommen’s princess too?”

\- She laughed, “Tommen’s too, you know what? Tomorrow night we all go out to that place that makes those giants pizzas you love, ok?”

She could picture Myrcella squirming with joy through the phone.

“Tommen asks if we can take Springsteen with us.”

“We can’t take him with us, sweetheart.. it’s a cat.”

Jaime laughed behind her and, after some other promises, she greeted Myrcella, hanging up.

“Are you ok?” He asked her then.

She thought about Myrcella’s words, she thought about the possibility of a real family, she thought about small hands around her neck once arrived at home, about shared breakfasts, running cats and a proposal she still had to answer to.

“I’m happy.” She answered him.

“Great.” He said, tightening his embrace. “So, about that little yellow house, it needs to be really yellow, right?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's over, I'm a little bit sad. Did you like the end? I hope so.  
> Also I might not have finished with these Jaime and Brienne, who knows?  
> Anyway, there will be another oneshot post s7 soon and I have an idea for a new AU. I really hope you'll keep reading my stories.  
> Comments make me happy.


End file.
